A Gift for Baba (Part 1)

A Gift for Baba
04/13/2021 - 5:00 PM

By: Will Weissbaum

Writer's Note: A Gift for Baba (Part One) first appeared in Jump Point 5.8. Original artwork by Sean Andrew Murray.
Part One
Yela lightly knocked on the hatch to the rear restroom, “Daymar?”

A deep, older voice replied, “Occupied.”

That was the last restroom on the transport ship. Suddenly, the hope that her younger brother had disappeared to use the restroom abruptly vanished, alongside the chances of her being able to go back to reading her new book anytime soon. Though, if she were being fair, the book was in large part to blame for her current predicament. If she hadn’t been so wrapped up in Lord Falton’s attempt to reclaim the throne for House Ashen Grey, then maybe she would have noticed sooner that her brother had vacated his seat.

It was their first time flying by themselves and it was already going wrong. Her father had almost canceled the trip when he found out he had to stay and give a lecture, but Yela had convinced him to let them travel to see Baba all on their own. Of course, the whole thing would have been simpler if dad had agreed to her original plan of administering sedatives before they launched. It would have been so much easier! If stasis was good enough for the early space travelers, why not for her brother and sister?

Instead, when he was saying goodbye to them on Mars, their father had made Daymar and Cellin promise to listen to their older sister. So far, Yela felt like her two younger siblings had done almost everything but listen to her.

Even her simple requests like don’t touch the in-flight shopping kiosk had been ignored. Sure, oatmeal was her favorite cookie and it was sort of nice that Cellin had ordered them for her ... and they had tasted way better than the nutri-sticks their dad had packed for them, plus it did mean that they were all less tempted to eat the fancy chocolates they had brought as a gift for Baba . . . but still, it was the principle of the thing. These things weren’t free after all, and her brother, all she asked him to do was stay put and even that proved too hard. Why did he always have to wander off like this?

Yela ran through her mental list of places to search one more time. She had already checked the lounge, the view port and the attendant bay, and had walked all the aisles twice. Cellin was watching their seats and hadn’t seen him. If Daymar wasn’t using any of the restrooms, then where was he? Had he found a way into the engine room? Was he hurt? Did someone take him? Her heart began to pulse faster at the thought that her brother might actually be in trouble.

“You mind moving?” came a deep voice from close behind her.

Yela nearly jumped out of her skin, then turned to see an elderly woman trying to exit from the restroom.

Stepping out of the way, Yela watched the silver haired woman grumble her way down the aisle.

Derailed from her worrying, she took a deep breath and calmed herself, remembering the advice that Baba had given during their last visit. “As long as you’re still breathing, you’re already doing better than the billions of people who came before you.” Dad hated when Baba said stuff like that, but Yela appreciated the way her grandmother could always put things into perspective. Okay, maybe it hadn’t been perfect, but all things considered, their first time traveling through space by themselves could be going a lot worse. For example, on the bright side, since none of the pressure alarms had sounded, she knew that at least her brother was still on the ship.

“I swear, if you kick the seat one more time I’m gonna have you tossed out an airlock!”

For the moment, at least.

Hurrying down the aisle, Yela saw a large, red-faced man glaring angrily at the row behind his. Row 15. Her row. And just as she feared, there was her little sister Cellin, staring back up at the man, equally red faced. “I’d like to see you try!” countered Cellin.

“Oh, you would, would you?!?”

“Cellin, what is going on?” Yela asked as she drew near to the heated scene.

Without taking her eyes off the man’s face Cellin answered, “He was saying bad stuff about people who live on Europa.”

That explained it. Europa was where Baba lived and Cellin was fiercely protective of the people she cared about. Dad described her as “filled with dangerously noble intentions.”

“What I say is my own business,” said the man. He pointed a thick finger square at Yela’s nose. “Do you know how much I paid for this ticket?” The man bellowed. “Way too much to have some little snot-nosed brat kick my —”

Before he could finish his tirade, the door to the overhead luggage compartment near his head opened with a snap. From inside a tiny face peered out. Sleepily, the boy rubbed at his eye with the back of his hand. “Are we at Baba’s yet?”

“Daymar!” Yela cried in relief.

“Hi, Yela. I found a bunk bed like at home,” said Daymar, before reaching an arm out to the man. “Help me down, please?”

The man, still a little bewildered by the sudden change of events, lifted Daymar from the bin and set him down gently on the ground.

Almost out of instinct, Yela prompted, “What do you say, Daymar?”

“Thank you,” said Daymar.

“Uh. Sure,” the man replied, not quite certain what else to do.

“I’m going to need all of you to clear the aisle and take your seats,” a passing attendant informed them. “We are going to be turning off gravity for our approach soon.”

The man seemed to remember some of his anger at the sight of someone in uniform. “Hey, you. Wait a minute.”

The attendant paused, “Yes, sir?”

“You got to do something about these kids. They’ve been arguing, kicking my seat, and climbing all over the place.”

“Is that so?” The attendant asked Yela.

Yela pulled herself up to her full height (which was a full five centimeters taller than last year) and used her most serious adult voice to say, “He said spurious and hurtful comments about Europa and its inhabitants.”

“Oh, is that so?” The attendant asked the man.

“Well, I —”

Cellin immediately jumped in.

“He did! He said that people from Europa were all cold-blooded liars and when I said my grandma was from Europa, he told me to shut up, but I wouldn’t because he was wrong, so I kicked his seat, and then he said he was going to throw me out an airlock.”

“Now, just wait a minute, here. You don’t think that I —” started the man, but the attendant cut him off. “Sir, right now all I know is that we are approaching our transfer station and everyone needs to get strapped in, even people like you.” She turned to the children, “As for you three, come along. Let’s see if we can’t find you somewhere better to sit.”

With that, the attendant marched Daymar, Cellin and Yela past the man (Cellin glaring at him like a hawk as she passed) and up the stairs to the executive lounge.

The room was elegantly furnished in brass fixtures and dark woods, while the entire front wall was lined with a display that projected a realtime view of the ship’s trajectory. Much better than the view from the small seatback displays. The room was mostly empty, with only a few of the plush chairs occupied.

“We were a little light today, so we have extra seats in here, but I need you to promise me that you won’t be any trouble if I let you sit up here.”

“We promise,” they responded in near unison, with Cellin chiming in just a fraction later than her siblings, since she was never one to take a promise lightly.

“Good. Now, let’s strap you into your harnesses.” The attendant helped Daymar and Cellin position their zero-G harnesses into place, while Yela proudly did her own, glad of the instructions she had read earlier in the safety manual.

“There, all set,” said the attendant as she adjusted Cellin’s last strap. “Oh, and my father was from Europa too,” she said with a wink before leaving to attend to other passengers.

Daymar sunk back into the thick padding of the seat with comfortable sigh. “I like being an executive. Cellin, do you think you can kick someone on our next flight too?”

“Yes!” “No!” Cellin and Yela answered respectively and simultaneously.

“Prepare for zero-g,” announced the tannoy. The little gravity warning light overhead clicked on, the counter-spin thrusters fired, and a moment later, they felt themselves lighten until they were pressing against the seat harnesses. “Making final approach to Transfer Station Banaru. Stand by.”

Ahead on the viewscreen, a small speck was quickly growing larger until you could just make out that it was a spoked space station. Long arms jutted out from its central hub and connected to an outer ring, giving it the appearance of a robotic wagon wheel. The station spun about its axis, using centripetal acceleration to provide gravity to those onboard. However, as their ship approached, the spinning appeared to slow to a stop. Yela began to explain to Daymar that it wasn’t the station that was slowing, but rather it was their ship that had begun rotating at the same speed, only making the station look like it had stopped. She would have gone on to explain more about docking procedures, but Daymar had already fallen fast asleep.

* * *

Transfer Station Banaru was a hive of activity. Situated just outside the Sol-Croshaw jump point, travelers from all over both systems arrived to switch between smaller local shuttles and larger starliners. Over the years, Banaru steadily grew from all the traffic passing through and now, as it proudly proclaimed in multiple signs posted throughout station, it had a full hotel, exotic food court and bustling marketplace. The food court was especially popular with people arriving from Croshaw, since it is recommended that you fly on an empty stomach through interspace, at least the first few times until you get used to the sensation.

In a quieter section of the station, the three siblings sat on chairs near the E-12 docking port waiting for their shuttlecraft to Europa to depart. They had just over an hour to go — precisely seventy-one standard Earth minutes according to Daymar, who had very recently learned how to tell time. Through the thick viewing-pane, Yela watched as the transport they had arrived on, having refueled and taken on new passengers, drift away from the station towards the flashing jump point beacons in the distance. Already she could see it spin as its rotation went out of synch with Banaru’s own. As excited as she was to visit her grandmother, part of her longed to visit another system.

“What are you looking at?” Daymar asked his older sister.

“Our transport ship is about to go through the jump point, see?” Yela pointed to where the ship waited to spin up its drives.

“They left without us!” cried out Daymar as he rushed to the viewing-pane.

Yela got up and put a comforting hand on the boy’s back. “No, remember? That ship is going to Croshaw. We’re getting on a different ship to go to Baba’s.”

“Oh,” said Daymar. A tiny bright light flared and the ship breached interspace, disappearing from sight. “Then why did we leave Baba’s gift on that one?”

Cellin and Yela shared a panicked look before both of them quickly dumped open their bags looking for the box of chocolates they had brought along for their grandmother. They had picked out the flavors together at Baba’s favorite chocolatier in Port Retanus. She always talked about how it was the thing she missed most about living on the red planet, aside from the three of them and their father, of course. Baba even joked that the only reason she still visited was to refill her supply.

The first time they had visited her on Europa, they had sat curled up under a blanket together watching one of the crystal storms through the small porthole in her workshop. They each had gotten to select one of the chocolates from the box and Baba showed them how she would eat around the edge, letting each bite melt, before finally popping the filling in her mouth.

And now, thanks to being so distracted by the argument, they had forgotten Baba’s gift on the starliner and her chocolates were somewhere in a whole other star system.

“It was in the back pocket of the seat,” Daymar reminded them. “You said I wasn’t allowed to touch it, even though I promised to be careful.”

“Why didn’t you say something!” Cellin demanded.

Daymar’s eyes got wide like they did when he was about to cry. Yela felt like crying too, but that wasn’t going to help anything. “It wasn’t his fault. I forgot too.”

“Baba’s going to be so mad with us,” said Cellin.

“No, she isn’t,” said Yela.

“Yes, she is,” said Cellin. The thought of Baba being mad at him was enough to burst Daymar’s seal and tears came flooding down his face. His face curled like he was about to cry out, but the sound never came. Daymar had always been a quiet cryer. Their father said it was like watching a vid on mute.

“It’s my fault for getting into a stupid fight with that stupid man. It’s always my fault.” And with that, Cellin angrily crossed her arms and started to cry as well.

“If anyone’s to blame, it’s me. I should’ve remembered,” said Yela. “I’m in charge.”

“You’re right. It is your fault,” agreed Cellin through her tears. That’s when Yela started to cry too.

Now, if a different attendant had been assigned to watch over them at the docking-port, things might have gone very differently for the three siblings. However, Tyva Montclair had been given the task and if asked, Tyva would quickly tell you that even from a very young age she has been no good with children. At the sight of the three siblings sobbing their eyes out, instead of going to comfort them and find out what was wrong, Tyva decided that she in fact really needed to use the restroom at that exact moment, and that is exactly what she did.

Left on their own, the children continued to cry for a few minutes longer. Daymar was the first to run out of tears. Sniffling, a thought occurred to him. “Let’s get her a new present.”

“Those chocolates were from Mars, we can’t get her more,” explained Yela.

“We can get her something better,” said Daymar with growing enthusiasm.

“There’s probably something stellar in the market! That sign says it’s the best shopping in the whole sector,” said Cellin, suddenly caught up in the idea that there might be an adventure happening soon.

“But the attendant said we weren’t supposed to leave,” said Yela.

“Good thing she isn’t here then,” Cellin pointed out. “We can go get a gift and be back before she even knows we’re gone.”

“I don’t think we should. We could get in trouble.”

“Remember what Baba says? No one’s ever done anything great without getting into at least a little bit of trouble,” quoted Cellin.

Yela remembered this as another of Baba’s sayings that their father didn’t like.

Before she could respond, Yela saw Daymar already heading down the corridor towards the central hub. “Wait up!”

* * *

The trio traveled down the connector spoke until it opened up into the vaulted central hub. Rimmed along the sides by multiple floors, the massive space was filled with people flitting from stall to stall — shopping, eating and talking. There was even a live musician playing complicated music on a lexion from Persei. Daymar covered his ears as they walked past, not yet accustomed to the recently-introduced instrument’s rasping and buzzing.

As they walked, they stared wide eyed at the people flowing around them. Even though the town they lived in on Mars received its fair share of visitors, it was nothing compared to the hodgepodge of colonists, traders and settlers that crisscrossed their way through the hub. The children took turns pointing out the travelers’ origins.

“That old guy is from Mars like us!” said Daymar, spotting someone wearing the smooth, thick jacket-style that so many Martians wore to keep out the dust.

“Those pressure lenses mean that person is from Gonn,” noted Cellin as a person wearing a thick set of purple goggles walked past returning her stare.

“And those two women wearing the scaly green and yellow robes are definitely from Davien,” observed Yela.

Daymar wanted to talk to a gentleman slurping wide, fat noodles at a food counter who had the same triple-plaited braids that their own grandmother wore, and Cellin was about to go ask a tall woman with blueish skin where she was from, when Yela focused them on the task at hand. As interesting as the people were, they were supposed to be finding a gift for Baba.

After instructing them not to touch anything, and writing E-12 on Daymar’s hand so he would know which docking port to go to if he got lost, Yela steered her two younger siblings towards a row of stalls that featured beautiful jewelry. There were gilded rings, necklaces made from gemstone flowers, and even a broach that looked like a dust beetle, but after thinking for a bit, none of them could ever remember seeing Baba wear jewelry. “Maybe that means she really needs some,” said Yela.

“Or that she hates it,” said Cellin.

“Let’s keep looking.”

They proceeded through the marketplace, visiting a stall with long scarves for filtering air, another stall with little bright red lizards for sale, and a hawker who was peddling genuine pitambu fruit all the way from Reisse, but after wandering up and down the market, they had narrowed down their options to two booths. Yela thought that they should get Baba a fancy bottle of lotion made from digary blossoms that, according to the vendor, only grew on Aremis. “She works with her hands a lot, and the cold weather makes them dry,” explained Yela.

Cellin thought that they should get Baba a little silver multitool. It had a monkey wrench, five screw-drivers, a fullband burst scanner, a Geiger counter, an arc-torch, a nail file and a bottle opener. “It’s like a hundred gifts in one!” Yela pointed out that Baba already had most of those tools, and Cellin pointed out that lotion was stupid.

It seemed like there wasn’t going to be any way to reach an agreement, when Daymar settled the debate saying “We should get her that.” Yela and Cellin looked to where their brother was pointing and agreed instantly. He had found the perfect gift for Baba.

* * *

“I am truly sorry, but I cannot let it go for any less,” said Vasko, the owner of the stall. To show how dismayed she was, she gently shook her head, which caused the thick folds in her neck to wobble. Daymar stood in front of her, gently holding the gift in his hands, staring up with wide, hopeful eyes.

They had been negotiating with the woman for several minutes now, but she could see how much the children wanted the gift and was holding firm. And the children really did want it. Just looking at the gift, it was clear that Baba would love it, even more than the chocolate. Functional and beautiful, they would have paid twice as much as Vasko was asking, but since they couldn’t even afford to pay once what she was asking, it was looking less and less likely they were going to be able to get it.

Yela quickly counted their pooled funds again. It was all the emergency money their father had given them, plus the allowance Yela had been saving for a new book and the dollar that Daymar had found walking through the spaceport in Port Renatus. Despite Yela’s fervent hope that the amount would come out different this time, they were still eight short of the asking price. “Are you sure you can’t go lower?”

“I’m already charging ten less than I normally would because you seem like such nice children, but if you do not have enough money, I am afraid there is nothing I can do.” Vasko reached to take back the gift, but Daymar stepped out of reach.

“Please? We have to get this for our Baba,” said Daymar.

“What do you have here?” A big meaty hand plucked the gift from Daymar’s grasp. The three children turned, surprised to see the man from the transport ship standing behind them. He held the gift up to his face. “Oh, look at this. Very nice.”

“Give that back!” demanded Cellin jumping up to try to snatch it back. The man raised it high above their heads.

“That’s for our Baba!” added Daymar.

“Now children, you had your chance,” scolded Vasko. “If this nice gentleman wishes to purchase it, then well . . .”

“You know what? I think I am gonna buy it,” said the man, sneering at Cellin.

“Excellent choice,” said Vasko. “You have wonderful taste.”

“He doesn’t even want it, he’s just doing it to be mean,” said Cellin.

“You’re wrong there, kiddo. I’m actually a collector and this is a real find,” said the man while examining it closer.

“That it is. All that detail work? Hand done. Very few like it,” said Vasko.

“Please, there has to be some way we can —” Yela paused. Something caught her eye on the back counter. “Wait. Is that a Banu lockbox?”

“Have you ever opened it?”

“No . . .” Vasko reluctantly admitted. “Not yet.”

Crafted for the heads of Banu guilds to hold valuable items or documents, every Banu lockbox is unique in design. To make them extra secure, no two have the same solution and often not even the artisan who makes them knows how to open them. When the original owner passes away, whatever mysteries it holds can remained unclaimed for generations . . . though often they were simply destroyed in the process of opening them. That’s what made intact ones so rare. Yela knew all about Banu lockboxes thanks to her father.

“I can open it for you,” said Yela.

“Like some kid can solve a Banu lock.”

“Our father’s a professor. He lectures on the Banu.”

“Do you really think you can open it for me?” Vasko asked eagerly.

“She can for the right price,” said Cellin.

“Yeah! Give us Baba’s gift!” insisted Daymar, reaching up to where the man still held it.

“I have been trying to open it for years . . .” Vasko considered the proposition. “If you can actually do it, then we have a deal.”

“Hey!” the man protested. “I thought you were going to sell it to me!”

“Not anymore. Hand it here.”

“What if I pay you twice as much?”

“You can pay me twice as much when the girl proves unsuccessful.” Vasko took the gift from the man and then, very gingerly, she placed the delicate lockbox on the counter in front of Yela. “No forcing it. You have to open it the proper way.”

“I know.” Yela wiped her hands off on her pants before gently running them over the surface. Banu had a slightly different approach to numbers and geometry than Humans did, so the first step was to switch her brain to see the world the way they did. She took a deep breath and blocked the sounds of the marketplace from her mind. It took a lot of concentration to be Banu.

“She’ll never do it,” said the man. “Heck, I got a ten-spot right here that says she breaks the thing trying.”

“Quiet!” Cellin and Vasko said in unison.

She counted to twenty-seven over and over until she had the right rhythm. Every other odd number sound needed to strike between the beat of her heart. Placing her index finger on the smooth spot along the short side of the box and her thumb on the corner closest to her, she tapped along. When she felt she had it right, she pressed firmly in time, matching the black and white pattern that repeated on the edge of the box. On the fifth tap, the box clicked and a series of ridges rose along the top.

“She did it!” exclaimed Vasko.

“Only the first part,” said Yela, and thought to herself, “the easy part.” Rotating the box, she adjusted her hands so that they interlaced over the ridges. As she began to count again, she was interrupted by an announcement from the station speakers.

“All passengers for Europa, this is your last boarding call.”

“Oh no! That’s our flight!” Yela completely lost her train of thought. “We have to get back.”

“We can’t leave without the gift,” said Cellin.

“We can’t miss our shuttle,” said Yela.

“I guess it looks like you don’t have a deal after all,” said the man happily.

“Docking-port E-12. Last call for Europa,” said the voice on the tannoy.

“Here,” said Vasko, holding out the gift. “Take it. I’ve had the box for years and I never even got this far.”

“Are you sure?” asked Yela.

“She’s sure,” said Cellin as she took the gift and placed it in her bag.

“She’s crazy is what she is,” complained the man.

“Just promise me that you’ll stop by next time you’re in Banaru.”

“We promise!” said the three siblings before they turned and raced through the marketplace.

* * *

The corridor was jammed with people. A starliner arriving from Croshaw had just docked, and passengers were streaming out from it, clogging the way. Yela and Cellin tried to find a way through, Yela by saying, “Excuse me” and Cellin by shoving.

Daymar was having a much easier time weaving his way past the crowd. Soon he was ahead of his sisters. Yela tried to tell him to wait up, but he couldn’t hear her over the din. Soon, he reached the point where the corridor split off towards the individual docking-ports. Yela was trying to squeeze past a group of sojourners hugging each other goodbye, when she saw Daymar pause and study the directional. He held up his hand, looked at the smudged E-12 Yela had written there earlier, and turned left down the corridor towards docking-port F-12.

“Daymar, wait!”

He paused to look back at them. Rushing around a stalled luggage drone, Yela urgently waved for him to come back, but he just returned her wave and continued down the wrong way, disappearing from view.

Yela was instantly filled with regret for not spending more time helping him learn his letters.

Desperate, Yela adopted Cellin’s method of traversal and soon the two of them were pushing their way through the throng of people. When they finally cleared it, they saw Daymar standing in front of the docking-port’s airlock.

“Daymar! That’s the wrong —”

Too late. He rushed on board. Yela and Cellin ran after him.

Passing through the airlock, the sisters emerged into the cavernous hold of a large hauling ship. Daymar stood a few steps in, gawping up at the rows and rows of massive cargo containers.

“We get to fly on this ship?” asked Daymar, excited by the prospect.”Where are the seats?”

“No, we’re not. Come on. We have to go,” said Yela. She grabbed Daymar and pulled him back towards the airlock when it sealed with a hiss in front of them.

Yela hurried to the controls and pressed the release button, but a red alert told her she didn’t have permission. Before she could figure out what to do next, a loud rumble sounded as the engines came to life.

“Looks like we are flying on this ship,” said Cellin.

Daymar cheered as they disconnected from the dock.

To be continued

Ein Geschenk für Baba
13.04.2021 - 17:00 UHR

von: Will Weissbaum

Anmerkung des Autors: A Gift for Baba (Part One) erschien zuerst in Jump Point 5.8. Originalgrafik von Sean Andrew Murray.


Teil Eins
Yela klopfte leicht an die Luke zur hinteren Toilette, "Daymar?"

Eine tiefe, ältere Stimme antwortete: "Besetzt."

Das war die letzte Toilette auf dem Transportschiff. Plötzlich schwand die Hoffnung, dass ihr jüngerer Bruder verschwunden war, um die Toilette zu benutzen, zusammen mit den Chancen, dass sie bald wieder ihr neues Buch lesen konnte. Obwohl, wenn sie fair sein wollte, war das Buch zu einem großen Teil schuld an ihrer jetzigen Lage. Wäre sie nicht so sehr in Lord Faltons Versuch vertieft gewesen, den Thron für das Haus Aschengrau zurückzuerobern, dann hätte sie vielleicht früher bemerkt, dass ihr Bruder seinen Platz geräumt hatte.

Es war das erste Mal, dass sie alleine flogen und es ging schon schief. Ihr Vater hatte die Reise fast abgesagt, als er erfuhr, dass er bleiben und eine Vorlesung halten musste, aber Yela hatte ihn überzeugt, sie ganz alleine zu Baba reisen zu lassen. Natürlich wäre die ganze Sache einfacher gewesen, wenn Vater ihrem ursprünglichen Plan zugestimmt hätte, ihnen Beruhigungsmittel zu verabreichen, bevor sie starteten. Es wäre so viel einfacher gewesen! Wenn die Stasis für die frühen Raumfahrer gut genug war, warum nicht auch für ihren Bruder und ihre Schwester?

Stattdessen hatte ihr Vater, als er sich von ihnen auf dem Mars verabschiedete, Daymar und Cellin das Versprechen abgenommen, auf ihre ältere Schwester zu hören. Bis jetzt hatte Yela das Gefühl, dass ihre beiden jüngeren Geschwister fast alles getan hatten, außer auf sie zu hören.

Sogar ihre einfachen Bitten, wie z.B. den Kiosk im Flugzeug nicht anzufassen, waren ignoriert worden. Sicher, Haferflocken waren ihre Lieblingskekse und es war irgendwie nett, dass Cellin sie für sie bestellt hatte ... und sie hatten viel besser geschmeckt als die Nutri-Sticks, die ihr Vater für sie eingepackt hatte, außerdem bedeutete es, dass sie alle weniger in Versuchung kamen, die ausgefallenen Pralinen zu essen, die sie als Geschenk für Baba mitgebracht hatten ... aber trotzdem, es war das Prinzip der Sache. Diese Dinge waren schließlich nicht umsonst, und ihr Bruder, alles was sie von ihm verlangte, war an Ort und Stelle zu bleiben und selbst das erwies sich als zu schwer. Warum musste er immer auf diese Weise abschweifen?

Yela ging ihre mentale Liste der Orte, die sie durchsuchen wollte, noch einmal durch. Sie hatte bereits die Lounge, die Aussichtspforte und die Betreuerbucht überprüft und war alle Gänge zweimal durchgelaufen. Cellin beobachtete ihre Plätze und hatte ihn nicht gesehen. Wenn Daymar keine der Toiletten benutzte, wo war er dann? Hatte er einen Weg in den Maschinenraum gefunden? War er verletzt? Hatte ihn jemand mitgenommen? Ihr Herz begann schneller zu pulsieren bei dem Gedanken, dass ihr Bruder tatsächlich in Schwierigkeiten sein könnte.

"Macht es dir etwas aus, dich zu bewegen?", kam eine tiefe Stimme von dicht hinter ihr.

Yela sprang fast aus ihrer Haut, dann drehte sie sich um und sah eine ältere Frau, die versuchte, die Toilette zu verlassen.

Aus dem Weg gehend, beobachtete Yela die silberhaarige Frau, die sich murrend den Gang hinunter bewegte.

Von ihren Sorgen abgelenkt, holte sie tief Luft und beruhigte sich, indem sie sich an den Rat erinnerte, den Baba bei ihrem letzten Besuch gegeben hatte. "Solange du noch atmest, geht es dir schon besser als den Milliarden von Menschen, die vor dir kamen." Dad hasste es, wenn Baba so etwas sagte, aber Yela schätzte die Art und Weise, wie ihre Großmutter die Dinge immer ins rechte Licht rücken konnte. Okay, vielleicht war es nicht perfekt gewesen, aber alles in allem hätte ihre erste Reise durch den Weltraum viel schlimmer verlaufen können. Zum Beispiel, auf der hellen Seite, da keiner der Druckalarme ertönt war, wusste sie, dass zumindest ihr Bruder noch auf dem Schiff war.

"Ich schwöre, wenn du noch einmal gegen den Sitz trittst, werde ich dich aus einer Luftschleuse werfen lassen!"

Zumindest für den Moment.

Yela eilte den Gang entlang und sah einen großen, rotgesichtigen Mann, der wütend auf die Reihe hinter ihm starrte. Reihe 15. Ihre Reihe. Und genau wie sie es befürchtet hatte, stand dort ihre kleine Schwester Cellin und starrte den Mann mit ebenso rotem Gesicht an. "Ich würde gerne sehen, wie du es versuchst!", konterte Cellin.

"Oh, das würdest du, oder?!?"

"Cellin, was ist hier los?" fragte Yela, als sie sich der hitzigen Szene näherte.

Ohne ihren Blick von dem Gesicht des Mannes zu nehmen, antwortete Cellin: "Er hat schlechtes Zeug über die Menschen gesagt, die auf Europa leben."

Das erklärte es. Europa war der Ort, an dem Baba lebte und Cellin war sehr beschützend gegenüber den Menschen, die ihr am Herzen lagen. Dad beschrieb sie als "erfüllt von gefährlich edlen Absichten".

"Was ich sage, geht nur mich etwas an", sagte der Mann. Er zeigte mit einem dicken Finger direkt auf Yelas Nase. "Wissen Sie, wie viel ich für dieses Ticket bezahlt habe?" Der Mann brüllte. "Viel zu viel, um mir von einer kleinen rotznasigen Göre einen Tritt verpassen zu lassen -"

Bevor er seine Tirade beenden konnte, öffnete sich die Tür des Gepäckfachs neben seinem Kopf mit einem Klicken. Aus dem Inneren lugte ein kleines Gesicht hervor. Schläfrig rieb sich der Junge mit dem Handrücken über sein Auge. "Sind wir schon bei Baba?"

"Daymar!" Yela rief erleichtert auf.

"Hallo, Yela. Ich habe ein Etagenbett wie zu Hause gefunden", sagte Daymar, bevor er dem Mann einen Arm entgegenstreckte. "Hilfst du mir runter, bitte?"

Der Mann, immer noch etwas verwirrt von der plötzlichen Veränderung der Ereignisse, hob Daymar aus der Tonne und setzte ihn sanft auf dem Boden ab.

Fast instinktiv fragte Yela: "Was sagst du, Daymar?"

"Ich danke dir", sagte Daymar.

"Äh. Sicher", antwortete der Mann, nicht ganz sicher, was er sonst tun sollte.

"Ich möchte Sie alle bitten, den Gang freizumachen und Ihre Plätze einzunehmen", informierte ein vorbeigehender Flugbegleiter sie. "Wir werden in Kürze die Schwerkraft für unseren Anflug abschalten."

Der Mann schien sich beim Anblick von jemandem in Uniform an etwas von seiner Wut zu erinnern. "Hey, du. Warten Sie einen Moment."

Der Wärter hielt inne, "Ja, Sir?"

"Sie müssen etwas gegen diese Kinder unternehmen. Sie haben gestritten, gegen meinen Sitz getreten und sind überall herumgeklettert."

"Ist das so?" Fragte die Flugbegleiterin Yela.

Yela richtete sich zu ihrer vollen Größe auf (die ganze fünf Zentimeter größer war als im letzten Jahr) und sagte mit ihrer ernstesten Erwachsenenstimme: "Er sagte falsche und verletzende Kommentare über Europa und seine Bewohner."

"Ach, tatsächlich?" Fragte die Wärterin den Mann.

"Nun, ich -"

Cellin sprang sofort ein.

"Das hat er! Er sagte, dass die Leute aus Europa alle kaltblütige Lügner sind und als ich sagte, dass meine Oma aus Europa ist, sagte er mir, ich solle die Klappe halten, aber ich wollte nicht, weil er falsch lag, also trat ich gegen seinen Sitz und dann sagte er, dass er mich aus einer Luftschleuse werfen würde."

"Jetzt warte doch mal einen Moment. Sie glauben doch nicht, dass ich -", begann der Mann, aber der Wärter unterbrach ihn. "Sir, im Moment weiß ich nur, dass wir uns unserer Transferstation nähern und jeder muss sich anschnallen, auch Leute wie Sie." Sie wandte sich an die Kinder: "Was euch drei betrifft, kommt mit. Mal sehen, ob wir nicht einen besseren Platz für euch finden können."

Damit marschierte die Wärterin mit Daymar, Cellin und Yela an dem Mann vorbei (Cellin starrte ihn im Vorbeigehen wie ein Falke an) und die Treppe hinauf in die Executive Lounge.

Der Raum war elegant mit Messingbeschlägen und dunklen Hölzern eingerichtet, während die gesamte vordere Wand mit einem Display ausgekleidet war, das eine Echtzeitansicht der Flugbahn des Schiffes projizierte. Viel besser als der Blick von den kleinen Displays in den Sitzreihen. Der Raum war größtenteils leer, nur ein paar der Plüschsessel waren besetzt.

"Wir waren heute ein wenig schwach, deshalb haben wir hier zusätzliche Sitze, aber du musst mir versprechen, dass du keinen Ärger machen wirst, wenn ich dich hier oben sitzen lasse."

"Wir versprechen es", antworteten sie fast unisono, wobei Cellin nur einen Bruchteil später als ihre Geschwister zustimmte, da sie nie jemand war, der ein Versprechen auf die leichte Schulter nahm.

"Gut. Nun lasst uns euch in eure Gurte schnallen." Der Betreuer half Daymar und Cellin, ihre Null-G-Gurte in Position zu bringen, während Yela stolz ihr eigenes anlegte, froh über die Anweisungen, die sie zuvor im Sicherheitshandbuch gelesen hatte.

"So, alles fertig", sagte die Wärterin, als sie Cellins letzten Gurt einstellte. "Oh, und mein Vater war auch aus Europa", sagte sie mit einem Augenzwinkern, bevor sie ging, um sich um die anderen Passagiere zu kümmern.

Daymar sank mit einem wohligen Seufzer zurück in die dicke Polsterung des Sitzes. "Ich mag es, eine Führungskraft zu sein. Cellin, meinst du, du könntest auf unserem nächsten Flug auch jemanden treten?"

"Ja!" "Nein!" Cellin und Yela antworteten jeweils und gleichzeitig.

"Bereitet euch auf die Schwerelosigkeit vor", verkündete das Tannoy. Das kleine Schwerkraftwarnlicht über ihnen leuchtete auf, die Gegenschubdüsen zündeten und einen Moment später spürten sie, wie sie leichter wurden, bis sie gegen die Sitzgurte gedrückt wurden. "Endanflug auf die Transferstation Banaru. Stand by."

Vorne auf dem Bildschirm wurde ein kleiner Fleck schnell größer, bis man gerade noch erkennen konnte, dass es eine speichenförmige Raumstation war. Lange Arme ragten aus der zentralen Nabe heraus und waren mit einem äußeren Ring verbunden, was ihr das Aussehen eines robotischen Wagenrads gab. Die Station drehte sich um ihre Achse und nutzte die Zentripetalbeschleunigung, um die Schwerkraft für die Menschen an Bord zu gewährleisten. Doch als sich ihr Schiff näherte, schien die Drehung zu stoppen. Yela begann Daymar zu erklären, dass es nicht die Station war, die sich verlangsamte, sondern dass es ihr Schiff war, das begonnen hatte, sich mit der gleichen Geschwindigkeit zu drehen, so dass es nur so aussah, als ob die Station angehalten hätte. Sie hätte noch mehr über die Andockprozedur erklärt, aber Daymar war bereits fest eingeschlafen.

* * *

In der Transferstation Banaru herrschte reges Treiben. Direkt außerhalb des Sol-Croshaw-Sprungpunktes gelegen, kamen Reisende aus allen Teilen beider Systeme an, um zwischen kleineren lokalen Shuttles und größeren Starlinern zu wechseln. Im Laufe der Jahre wuchs Banaru durch den vielen Verkehr stetig an und verfügte nun, wie es auf mehreren Schildern in der Station stolz verkündet wurde, über ein volles Hotel, einen exotischen Food Court und einen belebten Marktplatz. Der Food Court war vor allem bei Leuten beliebt, die von Croshaw kamen, da es empfohlen wird, mit leerem Magen durch den Interspace zu fliegen, zumindest die ersten paar Male, bis man sich an das Gefühl gewöhnt hat.

In einem ruhigeren Teil der Station saßen die drei Geschwister auf Stühlen in der Nähe des E-12 Docking Ports und warteten darauf, dass ihr Shuttle nach Europa abfliegt. Sie hatten noch etwas mehr als eine Stunde Zeit - genau einundsiebzig Standard-Erdminuten laut Daymar, der erst vor kurzem gelernt hatte, die Zeit zu lesen. Durch die dicke Sichtscheibe beobachtete Yela, wie der Transport, mit dem sie angekommen waren, nachdem sie aufgetankt und neue Passagiere aufgenommen hatten, von der Station weg in Richtung der blinkenden Sprungpunktbaken in der Ferne trieb. Sie konnte bereits sehen, wie er sich drehte, als seine Rotation nicht mehr mit der von Banaru übereinstimmte. So aufgeregt sie auch war, ihre Großmutter zu besuchen, ein Teil von ihr sehnte sich danach, ein anderes System zu besuchen.

"Was siehst du dir an?" fragte Daymar seine ältere Schwester.

"Unser Transportschiff ist dabei, durch den Sprungpunkt zu gehen, siehst du?" Yela zeigte auf die Stelle, wo das Schiff darauf wartete, seine Antriebe hochzufahren.

"Sie sind ohne uns losgefahren!", rief Daymar und eilte zur Sichtscheibe.

Yela stand auf und legte eine tröstende Hand auf den Rücken des Jungen. "Nein, erinnerst du dich? Das Schiff fährt nach Croshaw. Wir steigen in ein anderes Schiff, um zu Baba zu fahren."

"Oh", sagte Daymar. Ein winziges helles Licht flackerte auf und das Schiff durchbrach den Zwischenraum und verschwand aus dem Blickfeld. "Warum haben wir dann Baba's Geschenk auf dem da gelassen?"

Cellin und Yela tauschten einen panischen Blick aus, bevor beide schnell ihre Taschen auskippten und nach der Pralinenschachtel suchten, die sie für ihre Großmutter mitgebracht hatten. Sie hatten die Geschmacksrichtungen gemeinsam bei Babas Lieblings-Chocolatier in Port Retanus ausgesucht. Sie sprach immer davon, dass es das war, was sie am meisten am Leben auf dem roten Planeten vermisste, abgesehen von ihnen dreien und ihrem Vater natürlich. Baba scherzte sogar, dass der einzige Grund, warum sie ihn noch besuchte, der war, ihre Vorräte aufzufüllen.

Das erste Mal, als sie sie auf Europa besuchten, saßen sie zusammengerollt unter einer Decke und beobachteten einen der Kristallstürme durch das kleine Bullauge in ihrer Werkstatt. Jeder von ihnen durfte sich eine der Pralinen aus der Schachtel aussuchen und Baba zeigte ihnen, wie sie um den Rand herum aß, jeden Bissen schmelzen ließ, bevor sie schließlich die Füllung in den Mund steckte.

Und nun hatten sie, dank der Ablenkung durch den Streit, Babas Geschenk auf dem Starliner vergessen und ihre Pralinen waren irgendwo in einem ganz anderen Sternensystem.

"Es war in der Rückentasche des Sitzes", erinnerte Daymar sie. "Sie sagten, ich dürfe es nicht anfassen, obwohl ich versprochen hatte, vorsichtig zu sein."

"Warum hast du nichts gesagt!" forderte Cellin.

Daymars Augen wurden groß, wie sie es taten, wenn er kurz vor dem Weinen war. Yela war auch zum Weinen zumute, aber das würde nichts helfen. "Es war nicht seine Schuld. Ich habe es auch vergessen."

"Baba wird so böse mit uns sein", sagte Cellin.

"Nein, wird sie nicht", sagte Yela.

"Doch, wird sie", sagte Cellin. Der Gedanke, dass Baba wütend auf ihn sein könnte, reichte aus, um Daymars Siegel zu sprengen und Tränen strömten über sein Gesicht. Sein Gesicht verzog sich, als wollte er schreien, aber der Ton kam nicht. Daymar war schon immer ein stiller Schreihals gewesen. Ihr Vater sagte, es sei so, als würde man ein Video auf stumm schalten.

"Es ist meine Schuld, dass ich mich mit diesem dummen Mann gestritten habe. Es ist immer meine Schuld." Und damit verschränkte Cellin wütend die Arme und begann ebenfalls zu weinen.

"Wenn jemand schuld ist, dann bin ich es. Ich hätte daran denken müssen", sagte Yela. "Ich habe das Sagen."

"Du hast Recht. Es ist deine Schuld", stimmte Cellin durch ihre Tränen hindurch zu. In diesem Moment begann auch Yela zu weinen.

Wäre ein anderer Wärter mit der Bewachung des Andockhafens beauftragt worden, wäre es vielleicht ganz anders für die drei Geschwister gelaufen. Doch Tyva Montclair war mit dieser Aufgabe betraut worden und wenn man sie fragen würde, würde Tyva schnell sagen, dass sie schon von klein auf nicht gut mit Kindern umgehen konnte. Beim Anblick der drei Geschwister, die sich die Augen aus dem Kopf schluchzten, beschloss Tyva, anstatt sie zu trösten und herauszufinden, was los war, dass sie in diesem Moment wirklich auf die Toilette musste, und genau das tat sie auch.

Auf sich allein gestellt, weinten die Kinder noch ein paar Minuten weiter. Daymar war der erste, dem die Tränen ausgingen. Schniefend kam ihm ein Gedanke in den Sinn. "Lasst uns ihr ein neues Geschenk besorgen."

"Diese Pralinen waren vom Mars, mehr können wir ihr nicht schenken", erklärte Yela.

"Wir können ihr etwas Besseres besorgen", sagte Daymar mit wachsender Begeisterung.

"Auf dem Markt gibt es bestimmt etwas Erstklassiges! Auf dem Schild steht, dass es die besten Einkäufe im ganzen Sektor sind", sagte Cellin, der plötzlich von dem Gedanken ergriffen war, dass es bald ein Abenteuer geben könnte.

"Aber der Aufseher hat gesagt, dass wir nicht gehen sollen", sagte Yela.

"Dann ist es ja gut, dass sie nicht hier ist", bemerkte Cellin. "Wir können ein Geschenk holen gehen und zurück sein, bevor sie merkt, dass wir weg sind."

"Ich denke, das sollten wir nicht. Wir könnten in Schwierigkeiten geraten."

"Denk daran, was Baba sagt. Niemand hat jemals etwas Großes getan, ohne zumindest ein bisschen Ärger zu bekommen", zitierte Cellin.

Yela erinnerte sich daran, dass dies ein weiterer Spruch von Baba war, den ihr Vater nicht mochte.

Bevor sie etwas erwidern konnte, sah Yela, dass Daymar bereits den Korridor hinunter in Richtung der zentralen Drehscheibe ging. "Warte doch!"

* * *

Das Trio reiste die Verbindungsspeiche hinunter, bis sie sich in die gewölbte zentrale Nabe öffnete. An den Seiten von mehreren Etagen umrahmt, war der riesige Raum mit Menschen gefüllt, die von Stand zu Stand huschten - Einkaufen, Essen und Reden. Es gab sogar einen Live-Musiker, der komplizierte Musik auf einem Lexion aus Persei spielte. Daymar hielt sich die Ohren zu, als sie vorbeigingen, da er sich noch nicht an das Rauschen und Summen des kürzlich eingeführten Instruments gewöhnt hatte.

Während sie gingen, starrten sie mit großen Augen auf die Menschen, die sich um sie herum bewegten. Auch wenn die Stadt, in der sie auf dem Mars lebten, ihren gerechten Anteil an Besuchern erhielt, war das nichts im Vergleich zu dem Sammelsurium an Kolonisten, Händlern und Siedlern, die ihren Weg durch das Zentrum kreuzten. Die Kinder wechselten sich ab und zeigten auf die Herkunft der Reisenden.

"Der alte Kerl ist vom Mars wie wir!", sagte Daymar, als er jemanden entdeckte, der die glatte, dicke Jacke trug, die so viele Marsianer trugen, um den Staub abzuhalten.

"Diese Druckgläser bedeuten, dass diese Person von Gonn ist", bemerkte Cellin, als eine Person mit einer dicken lila Brille vorbeiging und ihren Blick erwiderte.

"Und die beiden Frauen in den schuppigen grünen und gelben Roben sind definitiv aus Davien", bemerkte Yela.

Daymar wollte sich mit einem Herrn unterhalten, der an einer Essensausgabe breite, fette Nudeln schlürfte und die gleichen dreifach geflochtenen Zöpfe trug wie ihre eigene Großmutter, und Cellin wollte gerade eine große Frau mit bläulicher Haut fragen, woher sie kam, als Yela sie auf die anstehende Aufgabe fokussierte. So interessant die Leute auch waren, sie sollten ein Geschenk für Baba finden.

Nachdem sie sie angewiesen hatten, nichts anzufassen und Daymar die Nummer E-12 auf die Hand geschrieben hatte, damit er wusste, zu welchem Hafen er gehen musste, falls er sich verlaufen würde, lenkte Yela ihre beiden jüngeren Geschwister in Richtung einer Reihe von Ständen, die wunderschönen Schmuck anboten. Es gab vergoldete Ringe, Halsketten aus Edelsteinblüten und sogar eine Brosche, die wie ein Staubkäfer aussah, aber nach kurzem Nachdenken konnte sich keiner von ihnen daran erinnern, Baba jemals Schmuck tragen gesehen zu haben. "Vielleicht bedeutet das, dass sie wirklich welchen braucht", sagte Yela.

"Oder dass sie es hasst", sagte Cellin.

"Lasst uns weiter suchen."

Sie gingen weiter durch den Markt, besuchten einen Stand mit langen Tüchern zum Filtern der Luft, einen anderen Stand mit kleinen leuchtend roten Eidechsen, die zum Verkauf angeboten wurden, und einen Händler, der echte Pitambu-Früchte den ganzen Weg von Reisse her verkaufte, aber nachdem sie den Markt auf und ab gewandert waren, hatten sie ihre Optionen auf zwei Stände eingegrenzt. Yela war der Meinung, dass sie Baba eine schicke Flasche Lotion aus Digary-Blüten besorgen sollten, die laut dem Verkäufer nur auf Aremis wuchs. "Sie arbeitet viel mit ihren Händen, und das kalte Wetter macht sie trocken", erklärte Yela.

Cellin dachte, dass sie Baba ein kleines silbernes Multitool besorgen sollten. Es hatte einen Affenschlüssel, fünf Schraubenzieher, einen Vollband-Burst-Scanner, einen Geigerzähler, einen Lichtbogenbrenner, eine Nagelfeile und einen Flaschenöffner. "Das ist wie hundert Geschenke in einem!" Yela wies darauf hin, dass Baba die meisten dieser Werkzeuge bereits hatte, und Cellin wies darauf hin, dass Lotion dumm sei.

Es schien, als würde man sich nicht einigen können, als Daymar die Debatte mit den Worten beendete: "Wir sollten ihr das schenken." Yela und Cellin schauten in die Richtung, in die ihr Bruder zeigte und stimmten sofort zu. Er hatte das perfekte Geschenk für Baba gefunden.

* * *

"Es tut mir wirklich leid, aber für weniger kann ich es nicht gehen lassen", sagte Vasko, die Besitzerin des Standes. Um zu zeigen, wie bestürzt sie war, schüttelte sie leicht den Kopf, was die dicken Falten in ihrem Nacken zum Wackeln brachte. Daymar stand vor ihr, hielt das Geschenk sanft in seinen Händen und blickte mit großen, hoffnungsvollen Augen auf.

Sie verhandelten nun schon seit einigen Minuten mit der Frau, aber sie konnte sehen, wie sehr die Kinder das Geschenk wollten und blieb standhaft. Und die Kinder wollten es wirklich. Schon beim Anblick des Geschenkes war klar, dass Baba es lieben würde, sogar noch mehr als die Schokolade. Funktional und wunderschön, sie hätten das Doppelte von Vaskos Forderung bezahlt, aber da sie sich nicht einmal das Doppelte leisten konnten, wurde es immer unwahrscheinlicher, dass sie es bekommen würden.

Yela zählte schnell noch einmal ihre gesammelten Gelder. Es war das ganze Notgeld, das ihr Vater ihnen gegeben hatte, plus das Taschengeld, das Yela für ein neues Buch gespart hatte, und der Dollar, den Daymar beim Spaziergang durch den Raumhafen in Port Renatus gefunden hatte. Trotz Yelas inbrünstiger Hoffnung, dass der Betrag diesmal anders ausfallen würde, waren sie immer noch acht unter dem geforderten Preis. "Bist du sicher, dass du nicht tiefer gehen kannst?"

"Ich verlange schon zehn weniger als ich normalerweise verlangen würde, weil ihr so nette Kinder zu sein scheint, aber wenn ihr nicht genug Geld habt, kann ich leider nichts tun." Vasko griff danach, um das Geschenk zurückzunehmen, aber Daymar trat aus der Reichweite.

"Bitte? Wir müssen das für unseren Baba besorgen", sagte Daymar.

"Was hast du da?" Eine große, fleischige Hand riss das Geschenk aus Daymars Griff. Die drei Kinder drehten sich um und sahen überrascht, dass der Mann vom Transportschiff hinter ihnen stand. Er hielt sich das Geschenk vor das Gesicht. "Oh, seht euch das an. Sehr schön."

"Gib das zurück!", forderte Cellin und sprang auf, um es zurückzuerobern. Der Mann hob es hoch über ihre Köpfe.

"Das ist für unseren Baba!", fügte Daymar hinzu.

"Nun Kinder, ihr hattet eure Chance", schimpfte Vasko. "Wenn dieser nette Herr es kaufen möchte, dann gut ..."

"Wisst ihr was? Ich glaube, ich werde es kaufen", sagte der Mann und grinste Cellin an.

"Ausgezeichnete Wahl", sagte Vasko. "Du hast einen wunderbaren Geschmack."

"Er will es nicht einmal, er tut es nur, um gemein zu sein", sagte Cellin.

"Da liegst du falsch, Kleiner. Ich bin eigentlich ein Sammler und das hier ist ein echter Fund", sagte der Mann, während er es sich genauer ansah.

"Das ist es auch. All diese Details? Handarbeit. Es gibt nur sehr wenige, die so etwas haben", sagte Vasko.

"Bitte, es muss doch eine Möglichkeit geben, dass wir -" Yela hielt inne. Etwas fiel ihr auf dem hinteren Tresen ins Auge. "Warte. Ist das ein Banu-Schließfach?"

"Hast du es jemals geöffnet?"

"Nein ..." gab Vasko zögernd zu. "Noch nicht."

Für die Oberhäupter der Banu-Gilden hergestellt, um wertvolle Gegenstände oder Dokumente aufzubewahren, ist jede Banu-Schließkassette einzigartig im Design. Um sie besonders sicher zu machen, gibt es keine zwei mit der gleichen Lösung und oft weiß nicht einmal der Handwerker, der sie herstellt, wie man sie öffnet. Wenn der ursprüngliche Besitzer verstirbt, können die Geheimnisse, die sie enthält, über Generationen hinweg unentdeckt bleiben. . obwohl sie oft einfach im Prozess des Öffnens zerstört wurden. Das machte intakte Exemplare so selten. Yela wusste alles über Banu-Schließfächer dank ihres Vaters.

"Ich kann sie für dich öffnen", sagte Yela.

"Als ob irgendein Kind ein Banu-Schloss lösen könnte."

"Unser Vater ist ein Professor. Er hält Vorlesungen über die Banu."

"Meinst du wirklich, du kannst es für mich öffnen?" fragte Vasko eifrig.

"Für den richtigen Preis kann sie das", sagte Cellin.

"Ja! Gib uns Babas Geschenk!", beharrte Daymar und griff nach oben, wo der Mann es immer noch hielt.

"Ich versuche schon seit Jahren, es zu öffnen ..." Vasko überlegte den Vorschlag. "Wenn du es tatsächlich schaffst, dann haben wir eine Abmachung."

"Hey!", protestierte der Mann. "Ich dachte, du wolltest es mir verkaufen!"

"Nicht mehr. Gib es her."

"Und wenn ich dir das Doppelte zahle?"

"Du kannst mir das Doppelte zahlen, wenn das Mädchen keinen Erfolg hat." Vasko nahm dem Mann das Geschenk ab und legte dann ganz behutsam das zierliche Schließfach vor Yela auf den Tresen. "Man kann es nicht erzwingen. Du musst es auf die richtige Weise öffnen."

"Ich weiß." Yela wischte sich die Hände an ihrer Hose ab, bevor sie vorsichtig über die Oberfläche strich. Banu hatte eine etwas andere Herangehensweise an Zahlen und Geometrie als die Menschen, also war der erste Schritt, ihr Gehirn darauf umzustellen, die Welt so zu sehen, wie sie es taten. Sie holte tief Luft und blendete die Geräusche des Marktplatzes aus ihrem Geist aus. Es erforderte eine Menge Konzentration, Banu zu sein.

"Sie wird es nie schaffen", sagte der Mann. "Verdammt, ich habe hier einen Zehner, der sagt, dass sie das Ding beim Versuch kaputt macht."

"Ruhig!" Cellin und Vasko sagten unisono.

Sie zählte bis siebenundzwanzig, immer und immer wieder, bis sie den richtigen Rhythmus hatte. Jeder andere ungerade Zahlenton musste zwischen dem Schlag ihres Herzens liegen. Sie legte ihren Zeigefinger auf die glatte Stelle an der kurzen Seite des Kastens und ihren Daumen auf die Ecke, die ihr am nächsten war, und klopfte mit. Als sie das Gefühl hatte, dass sie es richtig hatte, drückte sie fest im Takt, passend zu dem schwarz-weißen Muster, das sich auf dem Rand der Box wiederholte. Beim fünften Klopfen klickte die Schachtel und eine Reihe von Rillen erhob sich an der Oberseite.

"Sie hat es geschafft!", rief Vasko aus.

"Nur den ersten Teil", sagte Yela und dachte bei sich, "den leichten Teil." Sie drehte die Kiste und richtete ihre Hände so aus, dass sie sich über den Rillen verschränkten. Als sie wieder zu zählen begann, wurde sie von einer Durchsage aus den Stationslautsprechern unterbrochen.

"Alle Passagiere für Europa, dies ist der letzte Aufruf zum Einsteigen."

"Oh nein! Das ist unser Flug!" Yela verlor völlig den Faden. "Wir müssen zurück."

"Wir können nicht ohne das Geschenk gehen", sagte Cellin.

"Wir dürfen unser Shuttle nicht verpassen", sagte Yela.

"Ich schätze, es sieht so aus, als hättet ihr doch keinen Deal", sagte der Mann fröhlich.

"Docking-port E-12. Letzter Aufruf für Europa", sagte die Stimme über das Tannoy.

"Hier", sagte Vasko und hielt das Geschenk hin. "Nimm es. Ich habe die Box schon seit Jahren und bin noch nie so weit gekommen."

"Bist du sicher?", fragte Yela.

"Sie ist sicher", sagte Cellin, während sie das Geschenk nahm und es in ihre Tasche steckte.

"Sie ist verrückt, das ist sie", beschwerte sich der Mann.

"Versprich mir einfach, dass du das nächste Mal, wenn du in Banaru bist, vorbeikommst."

"Wir versprechen es!", sagten die drei Geschwister, bevor sie sich umdrehten und über den Marktplatz rannten.

* * *

Der Korridor war überfüllt mit Menschen. Ein Starliner aus Croshaw hatte gerade angedockt und die Passagiere strömten aus ihm heraus und versperrten den Weg. Yela und Cellin versuchten einen Weg hindurch zu finden, Yela indem sie "Entschuldigung" sagte und Cellin indem er schob.

Daymar hatte es viel leichter, sich an der Menge vorbeizuschlängeln. Bald war er vor seinen Schwestern. Yela versuchte ihm zu sagen, er solle warten, aber er konnte sie wegen des Lärms nicht hören. Bald erreichte er den Punkt, an dem sich der Korridor in Richtung der einzelnen Docking-Ports aufteilte. Yela versuchte, sich an einer Gruppe von Reisenden vorbeizudrängen, die sich zum Abschied umarmten, als sie sah, wie Daymar innehielt und den Wegweiser studierte. Er hob seine Hand, schaute auf das verschmierte E-12, das Yela vorhin aufgeschrieben hatte, und bog nach links in den Korridor in Richtung Andockstelle F-12 ein.

"Daymar, warte!"

Er hielt inne und blickte zu ihnen zurück. Yela eilte um eine festgefahrene Gepäckdrohne herum und winkte ihm dringend zu, zurück zu kommen, aber er winkte nur zurück und ging in die falsche Richtung weiter und verschwand aus dem Blickfeld.

Yela bedauerte sofort, dass sie nicht mehr Zeit damit verbracht hatte, ihm beim Lernen seiner Buchstaben zu helfen.

Verzweifelt übernahm Yela Cellins Methode der Durchquerung und bald schon drängten sich die beiden durch das Gedränge der Menschen. Als sie es endlich hinter sich gelassen hatten, sahen sie Daymar vor der Luftschleuse des Andocktores stehen.

"Daymar! Das ist die falsche -"

Zu spät. Er stürzte an Bord. Yela und Cellin rannten ihm hinterher.

Als sie die Luftschleuse passierten, traten die Schwestern in den riesigen Laderaum eines großen Transportschiffes. Daymar stand ein paar Schritte weiter drinnen und starrte auf die Reihen von massiven Frachtcontainern.

"Wir dürfen auf diesem Schiff fliegen?", fragte Daymar, aufgeregt von der Aussicht. "Wo sind die Sitze?"

"Nein, sind wir nicht. Komm mit. Wir müssen gehen", sagte Yela. Sie packte Daymar und zog ihn zurück zur Luftschleuse, als diese sich mit einem Zischen vor ihnen versiegelte.

Yela eilte zu den Kontrollen und drückte den Auslöseknopf, aber ein roter Alarm sagte ihr, dass sie keine Erlaubnis hatte. Bevor sie herausfinden konnte, was sie als nächstes tun sollte, ertönte ein lautes Grollen, als die Triebwerke zum Leben erwachten.

"Sieht aus, als würden wir auf diesem Schiff fliegen", sagte Cellin.

Daymar jubelte, als sie sich vom Dock abkoppelten.

Fortsetzung folgt

A Gift for Baba
04/13/2021 - 5:00 PM

By: Will Weissbaum

Writer's Note: A Gift for Baba (Part One) first appeared in Jump Point 5.8. Original artwork by Sean Andrew Murray.
Part One
Yela lightly knocked on the hatch to the rear restroom, “Daymar?”

A deep, older voice replied, “Occupied.”

That was the last restroom on the transport ship. Suddenly, the hope that her younger brother had disappeared to use the restroom abruptly vanished, alongside the chances of her being able to go back to reading her new book anytime soon. Though, if she were being fair, the book was in large part to blame for her current predicament. If she hadn’t been so wrapped up in Lord Falton’s attempt to reclaim the throne for House Ashen Grey, then maybe she would have noticed sooner that her brother had vacated his seat.

It was their first time flying by themselves and it was already going wrong. Her father had almost canceled the trip when he found out he had to stay and give a lecture, but Yela had convinced him to let them travel to see Baba all on their own. Of course, the whole thing would have been simpler if dad had agreed to her original plan of administering sedatives before they launched. It would have been so much easier! If stasis was good enough for the early space travelers, why not for her brother and sister?

Instead, when he was saying goodbye to them on Mars, their father had made Daymar and Cellin promise to listen to their older sister. So far, Yela felt like her two younger siblings had done almost everything but listen to her.

Even her simple requests like don’t touch the in-flight shopping kiosk had been ignored. Sure, oatmeal was her favorite cookie and it was sort of nice that Cellin had ordered them for her ... and they had tasted way better than the nutri-sticks their dad had packed for them, plus it did mean that they were all less tempted to eat the fancy chocolates they had brought as a gift for Baba . . . but still, it was the principle of the thing. These things weren’t free after all, and her brother, all she asked him to do was stay put and even that proved too hard. Why did he always have to wander off like this?

Yela ran through her mental list of places to search one more time. She had already checked the lounge, the view port and the attendant bay, and had walked all the aisles twice. Cellin was watching their seats and hadn’t seen him. If Daymar wasn’t using any of the restrooms, then where was he? Had he found a way into the engine room? Was he hurt? Did someone take him? Her heart began to pulse faster at the thought that her brother might actually be in trouble.

“You mind moving?” came a deep voice from close behind her.

Yela nearly jumped out of her skin, then turned to see an elderly woman trying to exit from the restroom.

Stepping out of the way, Yela watched the silver haired woman grumble her way down the aisle.

Derailed from her worrying, she took a deep breath and calmed herself, remembering the advice that Baba had given during their last visit. “As long as you’re still breathing, you’re already doing better than the billions of people who came before you.” Dad hated when Baba said stuff like that, but Yela appreciated the way her grandmother could always put things into perspective. Okay, maybe it hadn’t been perfect, but all things considered, their first time traveling through space by themselves could be going a lot worse. For example, on the bright side, since none of the pressure alarms had sounded, she knew that at least her brother was still on the ship.

“I swear, if you kick the seat one more time I’m gonna have you tossed out an airlock!”

For the moment, at least.

Hurrying down the aisle, Yela saw a large, red-faced man glaring angrily at the row behind his. Row 15. Her row. And just as she feared, there was her little sister Cellin, staring back up at the man, equally red faced. “I’d like to see you try!” countered Cellin.

“Oh, you would, would you?!?”

“Cellin, what is going on?” Yela asked as she drew near to the heated scene.

Without taking her eyes off the man’s face Cellin answered, “He was saying bad stuff about people who live on Europa.”

That explained it. Europa was where Baba lived and Cellin was fiercely protective of the people she cared about. Dad described her as “filled with dangerously noble intentions.”

“What I say is my own business,” said the man. He pointed a thick finger square at Yela’s nose. “Do you know how much I paid for this ticket?” The man bellowed. “Way too much to have some little snot-nosed brat kick my —”

Before he could finish his tirade, the door to the overhead luggage compartment near his head opened with a snap. From inside a tiny face peered out. Sleepily, the boy rubbed at his eye with the back of his hand. “Are we at Baba’s yet?”

“Daymar!” Yela cried in relief.

“Hi, Yela. I found a bunk bed like at home,” said Daymar, before reaching an arm out to the man. “Help me down, please?”

The man, still a little bewildered by the sudden change of events, lifted Daymar from the bin and set him down gently on the ground.

Almost out of instinct, Yela prompted, “What do you say, Daymar?”

“Thank you,” said Daymar.

“Uh. Sure,” the man replied, not quite certain what else to do.

“I’m going to need all of you to clear the aisle and take your seats,” a passing attendant informed them. “We are going to be turning off gravity for our approach soon.”

The man seemed to remember some of his anger at the sight of someone in uniform. “Hey, you. Wait a minute.”

The attendant paused, “Yes, sir?”

“You got to do something about these kids. They’ve been arguing, kicking my seat, and climbing all over the place.”

“Is that so?” The attendant asked Yela.

Yela pulled herself up to her full height (which was a full five centimeters taller than last year) and used her most serious adult voice to say, “He said spurious and hurtful comments about Europa and its inhabitants.”

“Oh, is that so?” The attendant asked the man.

“Well, I —”

Cellin immediately jumped in.

“He did! He said that people from Europa were all cold-blooded liars and when I said my grandma was from Europa, he told me to shut up, but I wouldn’t because he was wrong, so I kicked his seat, and then he said he was going to throw me out an airlock.”

“Now, just wait a minute, here. You don’t think that I —” started the man, but the attendant cut him off. “Sir, right now all I know is that we are approaching our transfer station and everyone needs to get strapped in, even people like you.” She turned to the children, “As for you three, come along. Let’s see if we can’t find you somewhere better to sit.”

With that, the attendant marched Daymar, Cellin and Yela past the man (Cellin glaring at him like a hawk as she passed) and up the stairs to the executive lounge.

The room was elegantly furnished in brass fixtures and dark woods, while the entire front wall was lined with a display that projected a realtime view of the ship’s trajectory. Much better than the view from the small seatback displays. The room was mostly empty, with only a few of the plush chairs occupied.

“We were a little light today, so we have extra seats in here, but I need you to promise me that you won’t be any trouble if I let you sit up here.”

“We promise,” they responded in near unison, with Cellin chiming in just a fraction later than her siblings, since she was never one to take a promise lightly.

“Good. Now, let’s strap you into your harnesses.” The attendant helped Daymar and Cellin position their zero-G harnesses into place, while Yela proudly did her own, glad of the instructions she had read earlier in the safety manual.

“There, all set,” said the attendant as she adjusted Cellin’s last strap. “Oh, and my father was from Europa too,” she said with a wink before leaving to attend to other passengers.

Daymar sunk back into the thick padding of the seat with comfortable sigh. “I like being an executive. Cellin, do you think you can kick someone on our next flight too?”

“Yes!” “No!” Cellin and Yela answered respectively and simultaneously.

“Prepare for zero-g,” announced the tannoy. The little gravity warning light overhead clicked on, the counter-spin thrusters fired, and a moment later, they felt themselves lighten until they were pressing against the seat harnesses. “Making final approach to Transfer Station Banaru. Stand by.”

Ahead on the viewscreen, a small speck was quickly growing larger until you could just make out that it was a spoked space station. Long arms jutted out from its central hub and connected to an outer ring, giving it the appearance of a robotic wagon wheel. The station spun about its axis, using centripetal acceleration to provide gravity to those onboard. However, as their ship approached, the spinning appeared to slow to a stop. Yela began to explain to Daymar that it wasn’t the station that was slowing, but rather it was their ship that had begun rotating at the same speed, only making the station look like it had stopped. She would have gone on to explain more about docking procedures, but Daymar had already fallen fast asleep.

* * *

Transfer Station Banaru was a hive of activity. Situated just outside the Sol-Croshaw jump point, travelers from all over both systems arrived to switch between smaller local shuttles and larger starliners. Over the years, Banaru steadily grew from all the traffic passing through and now, as it proudly proclaimed in multiple signs posted throughout station, it had a full hotel, exotic food court and bustling marketplace. The food court was especially popular with people arriving from Croshaw, since it is recommended that you fly on an empty stomach through interspace, at least the first few times until you get used to the sensation.

In a quieter section of the station, the three siblings sat on chairs near the E-12 docking port waiting for their shuttlecraft to Europa to depart. They had just over an hour to go — precisely seventy-one standard Earth minutes according to Daymar, who had very recently learned how to tell time. Through the thick viewing-pane, Yela watched as the transport they had arrived on, having refueled and taken on new passengers, drift away from the station towards the flashing jump point beacons in the distance. Already she could see it spin as its rotation went out of synch with Banaru’s own. As excited as she was to visit her grandmother, part of her longed to visit another system.

“What are you looking at?” Daymar asked his older sister.

“Our transport ship is about to go through the jump point, see?” Yela pointed to where the ship waited to spin up its drives.

“They left without us!” cried out Daymar as he rushed to the viewing-pane.

Yela got up and put a comforting hand on the boy’s back. “No, remember? That ship is going to Croshaw. We’re getting on a different ship to go to Baba’s.”

“Oh,” said Daymar. A tiny bright light flared and the ship breached interspace, disappearing from sight. “Then why did we leave Baba’s gift on that one?”

Cellin and Yela shared a panicked look before both of them quickly dumped open their bags looking for the box of chocolates they had brought along for their grandmother. They had picked out the flavors together at Baba’s favorite chocolatier in Port Retanus. She always talked about how it was the thing she missed most about living on the red planet, aside from the three of them and their father, of course. Baba even joked that the only reason she still visited was to refill her supply.

The first time they had visited her on Europa, they had sat curled up under a blanket together watching one of the crystal storms through the small porthole in her workshop. They each had gotten to select one of the chocolates from the box and Baba showed them how she would eat around the edge, letting each bite melt, before finally popping the filling in her mouth.

And now, thanks to being so distracted by the argument, they had forgotten Baba’s gift on the starliner and her chocolates were somewhere in a whole other star system.

“It was in the back pocket of the seat,” Daymar reminded them. “You said I wasn’t allowed to touch it, even though I promised to be careful.”

“Why didn’t you say something!” Cellin demanded.

Daymar’s eyes got wide like they did when he was about to cry. Yela felt like crying too, but that wasn’t going to help anything. “It wasn’t his fault. I forgot too.”

“Baba’s going to be so mad with us,” said Cellin.

“No, she isn’t,” said Yela.

“Yes, she is,” said Cellin. The thought of Baba being mad at him was enough to burst Daymar’s seal and tears came flooding down his face. His face curled like he was about to cry out, but the sound never came. Daymar had always been a quiet cryer. Their father said it was like watching a vid on mute.

“It’s my fault for getting into a stupid fight with that stupid man. It’s always my fault.” And with that, Cellin angrily crossed her arms and started to cry as well.

“If anyone’s to blame, it’s me. I should’ve remembered,” said Yela. “I’m in charge.”

“You’re right. It is your fault,” agreed Cellin through her tears. That’s when Yela started to cry too.

Now, if a different attendant had been assigned to watch over them at the docking-port, things might have gone very differently for the three siblings. However, Tyva Montclair had been given the task and if asked, Tyva would quickly tell you that even from a very young age she has been no good with children. At the sight of the three siblings sobbing their eyes out, instead of going to comfort them and find out what was wrong, Tyva decided that she in fact really needed to use the restroom at that exact moment, and that is exactly what she did.

Left on their own, the children continued to cry for a few minutes longer. Daymar was the first to run out of tears. Sniffling, a thought occurred to him. “Let’s get her a new present.”

“Those chocolates were from Mars, we can’t get her more,” explained Yela.

“We can get her something better,” said Daymar with growing enthusiasm.

“There’s probably something stellar in the market! That sign says it’s the best shopping in the whole sector,” said Cellin, suddenly caught up in the idea that there might be an adventure happening soon.

“But the attendant said we weren’t supposed to leave,” said Yela.

“Good thing she isn’t here then,” Cellin pointed out. “We can go get a gift and be back before she even knows we’re gone.”

“I don’t think we should. We could get in trouble.”

“Remember what Baba says? No one’s ever done anything great without getting into at least a little bit of trouble,” quoted Cellin.

Yela remembered this as another of Baba’s sayings that their father didn’t like.

Before she could respond, Yela saw Daymar already heading down the corridor towards the central hub. “Wait up!”

* * *

The trio traveled down the connector spoke until it opened up into the vaulted central hub. Rimmed along the sides by multiple floors, the massive space was filled with people flitting from stall to stall — shopping, eating and talking. There was even a live musician playing complicated music on a lexion from Persei. Daymar covered his ears as they walked past, not yet accustomed to the recently-introduced instrument’s rasping and buzzing.

As they walked, they stared wide eyed at the people flowing around them. Even though the town they lived in on Mars received its fair share of visitors, it was nothing compared to the hodgepodge of colonists, traders and settlers that crisscrossed their way through the hub. The children took turns pointing out the travelers’ origins.

“That old guy is from Mars like us!” said Daymar, spotting someone wearing the smooth, thick jacket-style that so many Martians wore to keep out the dust.

“Those pressure lenses mean that person is from Gonn,” noted Cellin as a person wearing a thick set of purple goggles walked past returning her stare.

“And those two women wearing the scaly green and yellow robes are definitely from Davien,” observed Yela.

Daymar wanted to talk to a gentleman slurping wide, fat noodles at a food counter who had the same triple-plaited braids that their own grandmother wore, and Cellin was about to go ask a tall woman with blueish skin where she was from, when Yela focused them on the task at hand. As interesting as the people were, they were supposed to be finding a gift for Baba.

After instructing them not to touch anything, and writing E-12 on Daymar’s hand so he would know which docking port to go to if he got lost, Yela steered her two younger siblings towards a row of stalls that featured beautiful jewelry. There were gilded rings, necklaces made from gemstone flowers, and even a broach that looked like a dust beetle, but after thinking for a bit, none of them could ever remember seeing Baba wear jewelry. “Maybe that means she really needs some,” said Yela.

“Or that she hates it,” said Cellin.

“Let’s keep looking.”

They proceeded through the marketplace, visiting a stall with long scarves for filtering air, another stall with little bright red lizards for sale, and a hawker who was peddling genuine pitambu fruit all the way from Reisse, but after wandering up and down the market, they had narrowed down their options to two booths. Yela thought that they should get Baba a fancy bottle of lotion made from digary blossoms that, according to the vendor, only grew on Aremis. “She works with her hands a lot, and the cold weather makes them dry,” explained Yela.

Cellin thought that they should get Baba a little silver multitool. It had a monkey wrench, five screw-drivers, a fullband burst scanner, a Geiger counter, an arc-torch, a nail file and a bottle opener. “It’s like a hundred gifts in one!” Yela pointed out that Baba already had most of those tools, and Cellin pointed out that lotion was stupid.

It seemed like there wasn’t going to be any way to reach an agreement, when Daymar settled the debate saying “We should get her that.” Yela and Cellin looked to where their brother was pointing and agreed instantly. He had found the perfect gift for Baba.

* * *

“I am truly sorry, but I cannot let it go for any less,” said Vasko, the owner of the stall. To show how dismayed she was, she gently shook her head, which caused the thick folds in her neck to wobble. Daymar stood in front of her, gently holding the gift in his hands, staring up with wide, hopeful eyes.

They had been negotiating with the woman for several minutes now, but she could see how much the children wanted the gift and was holding firm. And the children really did want it. Just looking at the gift, it was clear that Baba would love it, even more than the chocolate. Functional and beautiful, they would have paid twice as much as Vasko was asking, but since they couldn’t even afford to pay once what she was asking, it was looking less and less likely they were going to be able to get it.

Yela quickly counted their pooled funds again. It was all the emergency money their father had given them, plus the allowance Yela had been saving for a new book and the dollar that Daymar had found walking through the spaceport in Port Renatus. Despite Yela’s fervent hope that the amount would come out different this time, they were still eight short of the asking price. “Are you sure you can’t go lower?”

“I’m already charging ten less than I normally would because you seem like such nice children, but if you do not have enough money, I am afraid there is nothing I can do.” Vasko reached to take back the gift, but Daymar stepped out of reach.

“Please? We have to get this for our Baba,” said Daymar.

“What do you have here?” A big meaty hand plucked the gift from Daymar’s grasp. The three children turned, surprised to see the man from the transport ship standing behind them. He held the gift up to his face. “Oh, look at this. Very nice.”

“Give that back!” demanded Cellin jumping up to try to snatch it back. The man raised it high above their heads.

“That’s for our Baba!” added Daymar.

“Now children, you had your chance,” scolded Vasko. “If this nice gentleman wishes to purchase it, then well . . .”

“You know what? I think I am gonna buy it,” said the man, sneering at Cellin.

“Excellent choice,” said Vasko. “You have wonderful taste.”

“He doesn’t even want it, he’s just doing it to be mean,” said Cellin.

“You’re wrong there, kiddo. I’m actually a collector and this is a real find,” said the man while examining it closer.

“That it is. All that detail work? Hand done. Very few like it,” said Vasko.

“Please, there has to be some way we can —” Yela paused. Something caught her eye on the back counter. “Wait. Is that a Banu lockbox?”

“Have you ever opened it?”

“No . . .” Vasko reluctantly admitted. “Not yet.”

Crafted for the heads of Banu guilds to hold valuable items or documents, every Banu lockbox is unique in design. To make them extra secure, no two have the same solution and often not even the artisan who makes them knows how to open them. When the original owner passes away, whatever mysteries it holds can remained unclaimed for generations . . . though often they were simply destroyed in the process of opening them. That’s what made intact ones so rare. Yela knew all about Banu lockboxes thanks to her father.

“I can open it for you,” said Yela.

“Like some kid can solve a Banu lock.”

“Our father’s a professor. He lectures on the Banu.”

“Do you really think you can open it for me?” Vasko asked eagerly.

“She can for the right price,” said Cellin.

“Yeah! Give us Baba’s gift!” insisted Daymar, reaching up to where the man still held it.

“I have been trying to open it for years . . .” Vasko considered the proposition. “If you can actually do it, then we have a deal.”

“Hey!” the man protested. “I thought you were going to sell it to me!”

“Not anymore. Hand it here.”

“What if I pay you twice as much?”

“You can pay me twice as much when the girl proves unsuccessful.” Vasko took the gift from the man and then, very gingerly, she placed the delicate lockbox on the counter in front of Yela. “No forcing it. You have to open it the proper way.”

“I know.” Yela wiped her hands off on her pants before gently running them over the surface. Banu had a slightly different approach to numbers and geometry than Humans did, so the first step was to switch her brain to see the world the way they did. She took a deep breath and blocked the sounds of the marketplace from her mind. It took a lot of concentration to be Banu.

“She’ll never do it,” said the man. “Heck, I got a ten-spot right here that says she breaks the thing trying.”

“Quiet!” Cellin and Vasko said in unison.

She counted to twenty-seven over and over until she had the right rhythm. Every other odd number sound needed to strike between the beat of her heart. Placing her index finger on the smooth spot along the short side of the box and her thumb on the corner closest to her, she tapped along. When she felt she had it right, she pressed firmly in time, matching the black and white pattern that repeated on the edge of the box. On the fifth tap, the box clicked and a series of ridges rose along the top.

“She did it!” exclaimed Vasko.

“Only the first part,” said Yela, and thought to herself, “the easy part.” Rotating the box, she adjusted her hands so that they interlaced over the ridges. As she began to count again, she was interrupted by an announcement from the station speakers.

“All passengers for Europa, this is your last boarding call.”

“Oh no! That’s our flight!” Yela completely lost her train of thought. “We have to get back.”

“We can’t leave without the gift,” said Cellin.

“We can’t miss our shuttle,” said Yela.

“I guess it looks like you don’t have a deal after all,” said the man happily.

“Docking-port E-12. Last call for Europa,” said the voice on the tannoy.

“Here,” said Vasko, holding out the gift. “Take it. I’ve had the box for years and I never even got this far.”

“Are you sure?” asked Yela.

“She’s sure,” said Cellin as she took the gift and placed it in her bag.

“She’s crazy is what she is,” complained the man.

“Just promise me that you’ll stop by next time you’re in Banaru.”

“We promise!” said the three siblings before they turned and raced through the marketplace.

* * *

The corridor was jammed with people. A starliner arriving from Croshaw had just docked, and passengers were streaming out from it, clogging the way. Yela and Cellin tried to find a way through, Yela by saying, “Excuse me” and Cellin by shoving.

Daymar was having a much easier time weaving his way past the crowd. Soon he was ahead of his sisters. Yela tried to tell him to wait up, but he couldn’t hear her over the din. Soon, he reached the point where the corridor split off towards the individual docking-ports. Yela was trying to squeeze past a group of sojourners hugging each other goodbye, when she saw Daymar pause and study the directional. He held up his hand, looked at the smudged E-12 Yela had written there earlier, and turned left down the corridor towards docking-port F-12.

“Daymar, wait!”

He paused to look back at them. Rushing around a stalled luggage drone, Yela urgently waved for him to come back, but he just returned her wave and continued down the wrong way, disappearing from view.

Yela was instantly filled with regret for not spending more time helping him learn his letters.

Desperate, Yela adopted Cellin’s method of traversal and soon the two of them were pushing their way through the throng of people. When they finally cleared it, they saw Daymar standing in front of the docking-port’s airlock.

“Daymar! That’s the wrong —”

Too late. He rushed on board. Yela and Cellin ran after him.

Passing through the airlock, the sisters emerged into the cavernous hold of a large hauling ship. Daymar stood a few steps in, gawping up at the rows and rows of massive cargo containers.

“We get to fly on this ship?” asked Daymar, excited by the prospect.”Where are the seats?”

“No, we’re not. Come on. We have to go,” said Yela. She grabbed Daymar and pulled him back towards the airlock when it sealed with a hiss in front of them.

Yela hurried to the controls and pressed the release button, but a red alert told her she didn’t have permission. Before she could figure out what to do next, a loud rumble sounded as the engines came to life.

“Looks like we are flying on this ship,” said Cellin.

Daymar cheered as they disconnected from the dock.

To be continued