Ball of Silence

Ball of Silence - Chapter 5

Chapter 5

         We board the ferry with suitcases packed for a few nights. I clutch the crate with the precious vase. The Rel crystal slumbers in the bag around my shoulder. Unimaginable to be parted from it again.

         Space stations and ships usually maintain 0.7 Old Earth standard gravity. The planet has 0.9 standard gravity, inducing an unpleasant feeling of heaviness. At least we don't have to carry our suitcases. We forward our luggage to our downtown hotel.

We haven't been on a planet in four weeks, so we all quietly gaze out the taxi windows en route to the residence of the rich guy. He lives in the capital of Ginlam, only an hour away from the spaceport. Standard time for us is late afternoon, but at the capital it is noon, and Ginlam's sun burns down on the town.

I stare as if hypnotized by the world around me. The crystal is humming very differently, as if it feels that it is on a planet. I think I can hear a longing for home in the ball's buzz.

I share its feeling. No trees live in space or on space ships; we only breathe artificially refreshed air. Ginlam's air feels as heavy as its gravity, loaded with exotic and rich smells. Although a welcome change after ship and station air, none of the smells are familiar to me. I am from a different world.

         The houses passing by become bigger and fancier and we stare in awe at ever more opulent villas. The robot-taxi approaches a magnificent Chinese-style gate. The taxi stops and lowers its windows.

         "Identification, please," says the gate's computer voice.

I hold my ID card out of the window. What if Liv has talked to Qin in the meanwhile? I halfway expect my ID card to initiate an alarm.

         "Purpose of your visit?" the computer voice asks.

         "A delivery from the antiques dealer Liv Fogue. We are expected," I say. The gate opens. No alarm blares.

         The taxi picks up speed and we swerve through a meticulously maintained forest towards our unknown destination.

         Sina chuckles, Flin yelps, and I gasp as the mansion comes into view. It looks like a huge Chinese temple from Old Earth. Judging by his house, the hundred thousand credits for the vase is pocket money for Qin Mimata. How the hell has he become so rich?

         The taxi unloads us between a pond—complete with fat white and red carps and lotus blossoms on top—and the main entrance of the mansion.

         An elderly Chinese butler in black bows to us. "Mr. Sufford, if you and your companions would please follow me."

We stumble after the old man into a kitschy dream of gold, red and green. Flin stares with his jaw hanging. Sina and I are impressed but keep our chins under control.

I feel shabby in my black slacks, green pullover, and leather coat—the same coat that I wore for the meeting with Blan Friscus. I should've bought a suit; then, at least, they'd arrest a well-dressed thief. Flin wears worker's pants, a checkered shirt, and an anorak, while Sina wears leather pants and a white shirt with a blue jacket over it. None of us will be winning any best-dressed contests.

         As the butler leads us into a reception room, we pass a few glass displays that contain, what a surprise, vases. Several lavish sofas stand in the huge, open reception hall, grouped around a fountain with four golden, artificial carp spitting water. The butler gestures to the sofas.

         "Please wait here. Qin will be with you in a moment."

         I mumble a "Thank you."