Mr Artina Set in the year 5509, 204 BI (Before Impact)

Mr Artina

Multiverse Q2572, Quadrant: HL874.276.663, Sector: VX986.443.043. Planet: QQ004 Adlioor

Date: 5509..04/04 204 BI

"The smallest things can change a life. Even if, at the time, you remain unaware of the consequences of that event." Venor Lightfoot wrote. "I first met Mr Artina some thirty years ago while waiting for the night express from Holker to Joslin. The express was already late when I saw him shuffling in out of the storm, near the end of the terminal."

Date: 5480..03/06 233BI

The traveler had already taken a seat alone near the boarding gates when Venor first saw him. He was an older, unassuming man, whose face bore his age like crumpled paper; and was wearing clothes to match. His worn out black transit bag, about half his height, was already sitting next to him; parked in the grav sled frame, it's security tag was almost ripped in two and faded red with age.

Looking up from his PDD he watched as Venor dragged his bag over from rack near the closed office towards the once vacant seats.

Smiling as Venor struggled with his blue bag, he grinned showing his almost perfect teeth as Venor finally managed to drop his bag into the vacant slot on the grav sled.

"Nice to see someone else here," the man commented examining Venor's name tag as he settled into the bench next to him.

Venor looked back returning the complement as he read the faded silver name tag.

"ARTINA, R" it said, nothing more.

'Which is strange because this is a company terminal and they always want to know who you are and what rank you hold.' Venor thought.

"Nice day?" Artina asked.

"Wasn't bad I suppose, except for the storm," Venor replied looking out through the stress screens at the storm clouds boiling around outside the terminal. "Just arrive?"

"Nope." Artina fidgeted. "I've been here about a day," he continued taking a battered timetable from his suit pocket.

"Miss the last one?" Venor asked, having just read his own.

"No! I was here."

Venor stared back at him in surprise. 'Why hadn't he caught the last one? He'd certainly have caught it if he'd been here. Holker was almost renowned for its complete lack of facilities, even for a company station. Maybe his pass had expired? No. The silver tag on his suit said otherwise...'

"Next one's in three hours," Artina said folding the timetable back into his pocket without appearing to read it, as he relaxed into the bench.

"Where are you off to?" Artina asked, running his gloved hands through his snow white hair.

"Joslin."

"No. I mean after that."

"Sankrit."

"Nice place," Artina murmured. "I was there back in '01. Kit was a bit wilder back then. The Kirr hadn't got the idea of the translators yet and we'd just found the palace buried beneath the dunes of Derun. The Kirr weren't too happy about that let me tell you. They almost kicked us off the planet when we entered the ruins and found the first gate."

'What?' Venor thought 'Is the old man trying to scam me? That was almost forty years ago. Besides, Uncle Kadar had died on that mission, and almost everybody knew who'd been there since it had been required reading at school.

It had been his uncle Kadar Lightfoot, Bren Marishi, Laris Nestor, Hatch Learside and Captain Reeann Williams, there'd been no mention of Artina nor any name beginning with R.'