Nothing but trouble, annoyance and losses
Posted: Sun Jun 16, 2024 9:14 pm
Nothing but trouble, annoyance and losses
A tale from the spacelanes by C. B.
A new solar orbit had begun and all over the space station and the planet the residents met to celebrate the event appropriately. The party in her family's living quarters was still in full swing when it was time for little Moiko and her two younger siblings Nosa and Gorlog to go to sleep. Her Mujielder Nadumi was completely taken up with the various obligations as hostess and had therefore asked Grandelder Hanku to take the kittens to their bunks and stay with them until they fell asleep. Grandelder Hanku had rolled his eyes theatrically as always and let out a deep sigh, but then (of course!) took on the difficult mission that he would not have missed for anything in the world. The old veteran had been in well-deserved retirement for a few standard years now, but he still loved challenges and even more than that he loved his three grandchildren.
When the automatic bulkhead door to the sleeping area closed behind the four of them with a slight smack, the cheerful babble of voices and the music from the party could only be heard as a barely perceptible whisper that blended harmoniously into the constant background noise on the space station. "A well-soundproofed living quarters is really a nice thing," Hanku thought to himself. "In our old quarters on the Diso station, we often had to use an active noise-cancelling system on days like these in order to be able to sleep at all. This is something different. No comparison."
Thanks to Uncle Max's generosity, the family had been able to move from the Diso Station to the new upper middle class living quarters on the Riredi Station a good four standard years ago. Uncle Max had worked here for a few standard years and knew the station almost better than his own spacesuit. He still liked to stay there when he wasn't on one of his long and often dangerous business trips that took him across the galaxy. The residential quarters consisted of four standard residential units of class 4+, located directly next to each other. The "plus" stood for individual structural adjustments that went beyond normal customization and had to be specially approved by the technical station management. In this case, the plus consisted specifically of the three additional bulkhead interior doors that were installed, which connected the four standard residential units to form a larger unit. You didn't have to go out into the main connecting corridor to move from one to the other. Each standard residential unit was designed to comfortably accommodate two adults. If you squeezed a little closer together and left out the frills in the interior design, you could easily accommodate up to four people. This meant that everyone was a little more cramped, but there was still noticeably more space than the station management allowed a single resident - or should we say inmate? - of a lowest class 1 residential unit. There were people who said that you could live more comfortably in a cargo container welded to the station's outer shell than in a class 1 residential unit. But that was nonsense, of course. In fact, a class 1 residential unit on Riredi Station met or even exceeded the lower middle class standard on most other space stations in the sector in terms of equipment and comfort. It was just a little cramped.
The living quarters were not just rented, as is common on space stations. Uncle Max had purchased the four residential units a little over six standard years ago and had to put more than a whole big bag full of credit dongles on the table of the station owners to do so. Apart from that, he had to have excellent connections with the owners, or someone with the appropriate connections owed him a really big favor. It was still the absolute exception that residential units on a space station were offered for sale, even when interested parties came forward who had sufficient financial means. Accordingly, Nadumi had reacted with complete perplexity at first and then all the more euphoria when her brother had given her a holographically sealed deed of transfer for the ownership of two of the residential units on the occasion of Gorlog's birth, including a confirmation from the station management that all operating and maintenance costs for the next five standard years had already been paid. In this way, Uncle Max had eliminated the young family's financial difficulties in one fell swoop, which they had fallen into after the tragic death of their elder Termu shortly before Gorlog's birth.
Uncle Max had also thought of Hanku and transferred ownership of another residential unit to him. He had only kept one for himself. At first Hanku had not wanted to know anything about it and said that he could not accept such a big gift from his son under any circumstances. But Uncle Max had just laughed heartily, put his huge and strong paw on Hanku's shoulder and said, "Elder of my, of course you can! Because first of all, I don't sell Bima water on Qudira. And secondly: wasn't it you yourself who taught me that the well-being of the family comes first? Who else but you and me should be there for Nadumi and the kittens, now that the red goddess of the hunt has called Termu back to her forest? You know that my business often requires me to be away for long periods of time. It would be a great relief and reassurance for me to know that you are at the side of the four of them when I cannot be there myself. And if I ask you to move to Riredi with me, then let me also make sure that you can live properly there. I would bring shame on myself if I did not do it.“ Hanku had no objection and finally agreed. And now he was here.
Hanku stowed the three kittens in their comfortable bunks, dimmed the lights, and closed the heavy armored panel in front of the large outside window. Then came what had been inevitable from the start: As almost always, Moiko took on the role of spokesperson for the three siblings and turned to Hanku in her bright voice: “Grandelder of my, may we ask you something? Can you tell us a story to help us go to sleep? Pleeeease!” “Of course, my kittens!” laughed Hanku. “I would have been disappointed if you hadn’t asked me for a bedtime story. What would you like to hear? How I took Uncle Max on a hunt for Aronar for his initiation and the goat almost killed us instead of us killing it? Or how I hired an old, rickety Python freighter for a short cargo trip from Diso to Lave, we were attacked by space pirates, and I, all by myself, shot two Kraits out of maneuver with an old, weak pulse laser? "No, Grandelder of my," answered Moiko, "we want you to tell us something about Uncle Max. Mujielder received a holo-message from him before the party began and we were allowed to watch. You know, one of Uncle Max's eyes looks completely different from his other. We've never seen anything like it on anyone else and we've wanted to know what kind of eye it is for a long time. We've never dared to ask Uncle Max because Mijuelder always says that it's naughty to ask other people about their bodies. But we can ask you because you're not Uncle Max and it's about his eye and not yours. So it can't be naughty if we ask you. Gorlog thinks that Uncle Max's eye is definitely a magic eye and that the red goddess of the hunt gave it to him because he's always been very well behaved. Is that true? And what magic can it do?"
When Hanku heard that, he almost burst out laughing. Firstly, because of the kittens' brilliant logic and resourcefulness when it came to satisfying their curiosity; but even more so because of the thought that someone might have come up with the idea of giving Maxwell D. Fishhead, of all people, a prize for good behavior. Hanku made a few incomprehensible noises, coughed a few times and cleared his throat. Then he got himself under control again. "Kittens, if you only knew..." he thought to himself, amused.
In one respect, however, Gorlog had hit the nail on the head: it WAS actually a kind of magic eye. To be precise, a bio-robotic eye prosthesis with a multi-wave sensor in nano design and an external interface for additional extensions. The small device was a marvel of cyborg and nanotechnology. It was directly connected to the visual cortex via a synthetic neural network, had a miniaturized quantum processor for signal processing and enhancement, a self-repair unit with nanobots and an autonomous energy source barely the size of a thumb that would provide enough energy beyond Max's natural lifespan to keep the prosthesis' technology and any extensions running. The prosthesis increased the wearer's perception capabilities far beyond what a natural eye was capable of.
Hanku knew all this because Max had explained the features and functions in detail to his technically interested and very experienced Elder when he returned from Ceesxe. Only there and on no other known planet in this galaxy was the advanced technology available to manufacture and implant an eye prosthesis of such outstanding quality. Hanku was fairly certain that the "magic eye" had additional surprises in store through appropriate extensions that Max had "forgotten" to mention because they might not be entirely legal on all worlds; he knew his son and he even knew for sure that at least one extension that was somewhat legally problematic existed. He had once spontaneously visited Max on his ship and Max had carelessly left the weapons cabinet on the bridge open. As he glanced at it as he passed, Hanku immediately noticed the black cylinder that was mounted like an oversized telescopic sight on a magnetically functioning needle projectile rifle. The cylinder had several openings at the front in which various projectors, optics and sensor inputs could be seen, but only one cable with a complicated-looking interface connection on the side facing the eye. Although Hanku had never seen anything like this in person before, he was skilled enough with weapons to recognize at first glance what he was looking at: a smart gun. With such weapons, a perfectly prepared and sharp target image was generated directly in the brain without going through the eyes, and the aiming process and firing at exactly the right moment were also controlled directly by the brain, which led to lightning-fast target acquisition and incredible accuracy. Weapons of this type were normally reserved for military special forces. They were not available on the open civilian market, nor on the black market. But Hanku had not asked his son any more questions, as he had become visibly embarrassed when he noticed his elder looking at the gun cabinet, but had brought up another topic straight away. He preferred not to even know how his son had gotten a smart gun. Max was an adult, it was his business alone.
"So, how Uncle Max got his magic eye and what it's all about, do you three want to know?" Hanku turned to the kittens. "Very well, then I'll tell you as best I can from my memories of what Uncle Max told me about it. The story begins many solar orbits ago, when the red goddess of the hunt had not yet sent any of you three out of her forest on the great journey. Back then I was a tomcat in the prime of life and Uncle Max was still a youngster. He had just completed his pilot training at the LAVE Academy and I had hoped that he would follow in my footsteps as a freighter pilot on Spaceway L1. But your Uncle Max always had a mind of his own and his own plans. He came here from Diso, to the Riredi Station, and took a job as a test pilot in the development department of Coluber. That's the local shipbuilder and station operator, as you probably already know.
When one of the new developments proved to be a real bestseller, everyone in the development team received a big bonus payment, including Uncle Max. With the pocket on his spacesuit well filled with credit dongles, Uncle Max wanted to relax after all the work and have a real vacation. And for a cat hailing from Diso from our family, there is only one planet that comes into question for that: Aronar!”
At the mention of this planet, Hanku's eyes lit up and he took on a slightly distant look, as if he were mentally looking far back in time, and he promptly began to rave: “Ahhh, Aronar, what a world! Goat hunting! Relaxation! Good food! Excellent accommodation! And in every village, no matter how small, there's a Hoopy Casino where you can pay respect to local customs by gambling and win a few credits at the same time! And then…” At this point, Moiko suddenly interrupted him: “But, Grandelder of my, you always tell us that you're not allowed to gamble for credits and that gambling only brings you trouble, annoyance and losses!” The objection brought Hanku rudely back to the present; he stammered briefly: “Yes… Errr… Pffrrr… yes, my kitty, that's true too. But your Uncle Max, as I said before, always had a mind of his own and didn't listen to me. And he DID have trouble, annoyance and losses, as you'll hear in a moment.
Against my advice, he tried his luck at the gaming tables on Aronar. The game was Lave-Fold'em Poker and the limit was the edge of the Ooniverse. Playing with Uncle Max at the table were two humans and a Cebeteian whose names I can't remember and who aren't important for the rest of the story, and... ...Bras Vuvazeela - the red goddess of the hunt curse the name of this dishonorable man!
Vuvazeela was a rich goat farmer from Socelage and as hairy, fat and hot-tempered as he was rich. The game had already been going for a few time slices and Uncle Max had done quite well so far when the trouble, annoyance and losses started.
First, Vuvazeela lost a LOT of credits in one single round because Uncle Max had taken a different card out of the game on the last turn than Vuvazeela had expected. Uncle Max had "read" his opponent correctly.
Immediately afterwards, Vuvazeela lost all color and control of his emotions: He jumped up and loudly and without reason accused Uncle Max of cheating at the game.
This accusation, which was as outrageous as it was untrue and defamatory, caused an overwhelming anger to rise up in Uncle Max. He lost his calm reserve, jumped up too and demanded that Vuvazeela take it back immediately.
Vuvazeela, in turn, lost his reason and instead of coming to his senses and apologizing for his behavior, attacked Uncle Max with his huge fists like a Lavenian Tree Grub that was irritated to the point of blood.
He made a huge mistake, because Uncle Max had already been a true master of fist fighting during his time as a student at the Lave Academy. So, within micro-time slices, Vuvazeela lost a large incisor tooth, blood from a broken nose and the contents of his stomach.
Immediately afterwards, he lost the last of his reason and, as a bonus, his honor: He pulled out a long dagger from a hidden device on his spacesuit and gouged out Uncle Max's eye, which was lost too.
Uncle Max had not been prepared for an attack with a weapon and had therefore reacted a moment too late. Never in his life would Uncle Max have thought that someone who was not from Begeabi could be so stupid and ignorant as to bring a weapon into a Hoopy Casino on Aronar. You must know that the Hoopy casinos there are not just Casinos, but almost something like sacred places. Carrying and especially using a weapon in a Hoopy Casino is a taboo violation of the worst kind on Aronar, which has terrible consequences. Vuvazeela did not have another chance to attack. A loud, general outcry of indescribable indignation went through the casino at the unimaginable taboo violation. The locals, who had just been preparing for dinner by playing a game, came rushing in from all sides, in a rage. They grabbed Vuvazeela, held him down, and beat and kicked him with their hands and feet until he finally lost his life.
The events went down in the annals of Aronar. To this day, Vuvazeela's knocked-out tooth and the four playing cards that were found in the immediate vicinity of the tooth are kept and displayed in the casino where the events took place. The cards were the blue galaxy, the black galaxy (also called the black hole), the blue 8-moons, and the black 8-moons. This particular combination of cards has since become known on Aronar and far beyond as "the tooth of the dishonorable man."
In the end, things turned out relatively well for Uncle Max. The local laws of Aronar stipulate that in the event of an armed attack in a Hoopy casino, the material possessions of the attacker go to the victim as a ransom. Uncle Max was therefore awarded the ship that Bras Vuvazeela had traveled on, along with everything on it. It was a fine ship and Uncle Max still has it today - you know the "Firewizzard". Its cargo hold was well filled and did not contain goat meat, as one might have expected, but a much more valuable cargo. The value was high enough that Uncle Max was able to use the profit from the sale to travel to Ceesxe and have a replacement made for his lost eye. The very "magic eye" that you are so interested in.
Oh yes, you also wanted to know what it can do. In addition to seeing during the day, like our normal eyes can, it can also see at night, for example, and even light that is invisible to our normal eyes. To be precise, it is a bio-robotic eye prosthesis with a nano-designed multi-wave sensor and an external interface for all kinds of additional devices. The small device is...
Hanku continued his dry, technical explanations, which the kittens couldn't understand yet anyway, for a little while longer. Then he furtively looked at the three of them one after the other and noticed that the extremely boring part at the end of the story had served its purpose exactly: everyone had their eyes closed and was breathing calmly and regularly.
Only now did Hanku realize that he probably had another challenge to overcome because he hadn't considered something: to get back to the party, he had to briefly open either the bulkhead door to the main corridor or the bulkhead door between the residential units. In both cases, it would get louder for a moment and there was a risk that the kittens would wake up again. He decided to just wait another quarter of a time before leaving. Then the kittens would already be sleeping deeply and the probability of waking up would be minimal.
He carefully got up from the edge of Gorlog's bunk, quietly moved the fourth bunk, which was still free, into a comfortable sitting position, sat down on it and stretched out his hind legs. He let his thoughts wander and tiredness slowly overcame him without him even being aware of it. Slowly his mind slipped over into the universe of dreams and memories and back to the time when he himself had commanded a spaceship and no gaming table in any Hoopy casino on Spaceway L1 had been safe from him and his crew. And that despite the fact that his grandelder and his elder had never tired of warning him that gambling brings nothing but trouble, annoyance and losses. But Hanku had always had a mind of his own…
* * *
A tale from the spacelanes by C. B.
A new solar orbit had begun and all over the space station and the planet the residents met to celebrate the event appropriately. The party in her family's living quarters was still in full swing when it was time for little Moiko and her two younger siblings Nosa and Gorlog to go to sleep. Her Mujielder Nadumi was completely taken up with the various obligations as hostess and had therefore asked Grandelder Hanku to take the kittens to their bunks and stay with them until they fell asleep. Grandelder Hanku had rolled his eyes theatrically as always and let out a deep sigh, but then (of course!) took on the difficult mission that he would not have missed for anything in the world. The old veteran had been in well-deserved retirement for a few standard years now, but he still loved challenges and even more than that he loved his three grandchildren.
When the automatic bulkhead door to the sleeping area closed behind the four of them with a slight smack, the cheerful babble of voices and the music from the party could only be heard as a barely perceptible whisper that blended harmoniously into the constant background noise on the space station. "A well-soundproofed living quarters is really a nice thing," Hanku thought to himself. "In our old quarters on the Diso station, we often had to use an active noise-cancelling system on days like these in order to be able to sleep at all. This is something different. No comparison."
Thanks to Uncle Max's generosity, the family had been able to move from the Diso Station to the new upper middle class living quarters on the Riredi Station a good four standard years ago. Uncle Max had worked here for a few standard years and knew the station almost better than his own spacesuit. He still liked to stay there when he wasn't on one of his long and often dangerous business trips that took him across the galaxy. The residential quarters consisted of four standard residential units of class 4+, located directly next to each other. The "plus" stood for individual structural adjustments that went beyond normal customization and had to be specially approved by the technical station management. In this case, the plus consisted specifically of the three additional bulkhead interior doors that were installed, which connected the four standard residential units to form a larger unit. You didn't have to go out into the main connecting corridor to move from one to the other. Each standard residential unit was designed to comfortably accommodate two adults. If you squeezed a little closer together and left out the frills in the interior design, you could easily accommodate up to four people. This meant that everyone was a little more cramped, but there was still noticeably more space than the station management allowed a single resident - or should we say inmate? - of a lowest class 1 residential unit. There were people who said that you could live more comfortably in a cargo container welded to the station's outer shell than in a class 1 residential unit. But that was nonsense, of course. In fact, a class 1 residential unit on Riredi Station met or even exceeded the lower middle class standard on most other space stations in the sector in terms of equipment and comfort. It was just a little cramped.
The living quarters were not just rented, as is common on space stations. Uncle Max had purchased the four residential units a little over six standard years ago and had to put more than a whole big bag full of credit dongles on the table of the station owners to do so. Apart from that, he had to have excellent connections with the owners, or someone with the appropriate connections owed him a really big favor. It was still the absolute exception that residential units on a space station were offered for sale, even when interested parties came forward who had sufficient financial means. Accordingly, Nadumi had reacted with complete perplexity at first and then all the more euphoria when her brother had given her a holographically sealed deed of transfer for the ownership of two of the residential units on the occasion of Gorlog's birth, including a confirmation from the station management that all operating and maintenance costs for the next five standard years had already been paid. In this way, Uncle Max had eliminated the young family's financial difficulties in one fell swoop, which they had fallen into after the tragic death of their elder Termu shortly before Gorlog's birth.
Uncle Max had also thought of Hanku and transferred ownership of another residential unit to him. He had only kept one for himself. At first Hanku had not wanted to know anything about it and said that he could not accept such a big gift from his son under any circumstances. But Uncle Max had just laughed heartily, put his huge and strong paw on Hanku's shoulder and said, "Elder of my, of course you can! Because first of all, I don't sell Bima water on Qudira. And secondly: wasn't it you yourself who taught me that the well-being of the family comes first? Who else but you and me should be there for Nadumi and the kittens, now that the red goddess of the hunt has called Termu back to her forest? You know that my business often requires me to be away for long periods of time. It would be a great relief and reassurance for me to know that you are at the side of the four of them when I cannot be there myself. And if I ask you to move to Riredi with me, then let me also make sure that you can live properly there. I would bring shame on myself if I did not do it.“ Hanku had no objection and finally agreed. And now he was here.
Hanku stowed the three kittens in their comfortable bunks, dimmed the lights, and closed the heavy armored panel in front of the large outside window. Then came what had been inevitable from the start: As almost always, Moiko took on the role of spokesperson for the three siblings and turned to Hanku in her bright voice: “Grandelder of my, may we ask you something? Can you tell us a story to help us go to sleep? Pleeeease!” “Of course, my kittens!” laughed Hanku. “I would have been disappointed if you hadn’t asked me for a bedtime story. What would you like to hear? How I took Uncle Max on a hunt for Aronar for his initiation and the goat almost killed us instead of us killing it? Or how I hired an old, rickety Python freighter for a short cargo trip from Diso to Lave, we were attacked by space pirates, and I, all by myself, shot two Kraits out of maneuver with an old, weak pulse laser? "No, Grandelder of my," answered Moiko, "we want you to tell us something about Uncle Max. Mujielder received a holo-message from him before the party began and we were allowed to watch. You know, one of Uncle Max's eyes looks completely different from his other. We've never seen anything like it on anyone else and we've wanted to know what kind of eye it is for a long time. We've never dared to ask Uncle Max because Mijuelder always says that it's naughty to ask other people about their bodies. But we can ask you because you're not Uncle Max and it's about his eye and not yours. So it can't be naughty if we ask you. Gorlog thinks that Uncle Max's eye is definitely a magic eye and that the red goddess of the hunt gave it to him because he's always been very well behaved. Is that true? And what magic can it do?"
When Hanku heard that, he almost burst out laughing. Firstly, because of the kittens' brilliant logic and resourcefulness when it came to satisfying their curiosity; but even more so because of the thought that someone might have come up with the idea of giving Maxwell D. Fishhead, of all people, a prize for good behavior. Hanku made a few incomprehensible noises, coughed a few times and cleared his throat. Then he got himself under control again. "Kittens, if you only knew..." he thought to himself, amused.
In one respect, however, Gorlog had hit the nail on the head: it WAS actually a kind of magic eye. To be precise, a bio-robotic eye prosthesis with a multi-wave sensor in nano design and an external interface for additional extensions. The small device was a marvel of cyborg and nanotechnology. It was directly connected to the visual cortex via a synthetic neural network, had a miniaturized quantum processor for signal processing and enhancement, a self-repair unit with nanobots and an autonomous energy source barely the size of a thumb that would provide enough energy beyond Max's natural lifespan to keep the prosthesis' technology and any extensions running. The prosthesis increased the wearer's perception capabilities far beyond what a natural eye was capable of.
Hanku knew all this because Max had explained the features and functions in detail to his technically interested and very experienced Elder when he returned from Ceesxe. Only there and on no other known planet in this galaxy was the advanced technology available to manufacture and implant an eye prosthesis of such outstanding quality. Hanku was fairly certain that the "magic eye" had additional surprises in store through appropriate extensions that Max had "forgotten" to mention because they might not be entirely legal on all worlds; he knew his son and he even knew for sure that at least one extension that was somewhat legally problematic existed. He had once spontaneously visited Max on his ship and Max had carelessly left the weapons cabinet on the bridge open. As he glanced at it as he passed, Hanku immediately noticed the black cylinder that was mounted like an oversized telescopic sight on a magnetically functioning needle projectile rifle. The cylinder had several openings at the front in which various projectors, optics and sensor inputs could be seen, but only one cable with a complicated-looking interface connection on the side facing the eye. Although Hanku had never seen anything like this in person before, he was skilled enough with weapons to recognize at first glance what he was looking at: a smart gun. With such weapons, a perfectly prepared and sharp target image was generated directly in the brain without going through the eyes, and the aiming process and firing at exactly the right moment were also controlled directly by the brain, which led to lightning-fast target acquisition and incredible accuracy. Weapons of this type were normally reserved for military special forces. They were not available on the open civilian market, nor on the black market. But Hanku had not asked his son any more questions, as he had become visibly embarrassed when he noticed his elder looking at the gun cabinet, but had brought up another topic straight away. He preferred not to even know how his son had gotten a smart gun. Max was an adult, it was his business alone.
"So, how Uncle Max got his magic eye and what it's all about, do you three want to know?" Hanku turned to the kittens. "Very well, then I'll tell you as best I can from my memories of what Uncle Max told me about it. The story begins many solar orbits ago, when the red goddess of the hunt had not yet sent any of you three out of her forest on the great journey. Back then I was a tomcat in the prime of life and Uncle Max was still a youngster. He had just completed his pilot training at the LAVE Academy and I had hoped that he would follow in my footsteps as a freighter pilot on Spaceway L1. But your Uncle Max always had a mind of his own and his own plans. He came here from Diso, to the Riredi Station, and took a job as a test pilot in the development department of Coluber. That's the local shipbuilder and station operator, as you probably already know.
When one of the new developments proved to be a real bestseller, everyone in the development team received a big bonus payment, including Uncle Max. With the pocket on his spacesuit well filled with credit dongles, Uncle Max wanted to relax after all the work and have a real vacation. And for a cat hailing from Diso from our family, there is only one planet that comes into question for that: Aronar!”
At the mention of this planet, Hanku's eyes lit up and he took on a slightly distant look, as if he were mentally looking far back in time, and he promptly began to rave: “Ahhh, Aronar, what a world! Goat hunting! Relaxation! Good food! Excellent accommodation! And in every village, no matter how small, there's a Hoopy Casino where you can pay respect to local customs by gambling and win a few credits at the same time! And then…” At this point, Moiko suddenly interrupted him: “But, Grandelder of my, you always tell us that you're not allowed to gamble for credits and that gambling only brings you trouble, annoyance and losses!” The objection brought Hanku rudely back to the present; he stammered briefly: “Yes… Errr… Pffrrr… yes, my kitty, that's true too. But your Uncle Max, as I said before, always had a mind of his own and didn't listen to me. And he DID have trouble, annoyance and losses, as you'll hear in a moment.
Against my advice, he tried his luck at the gaming tables on Aronar. The game was Lave-Fold'em Poker and the limit was the edge of the Ooniverse. Playing with Uncle Max at the table were two humans and a Cebeteian whose names I can't remember and who aren't important for the rest of the story, and... ...Bras Vuvazeela - the red goddess of the hunt curse the name of this dishonorable man!
Vuvazeela was a rich goat farmer from Socelage and as hairy, fat and hot-tempered as he was rich. The game had already been going for a few time slices and Uncle Max had done quite well so far when the trouble, annoyance and losses started.
First, Vuvazeela lost a LOT of credits in one single round because Uncle Max had taken a different card out of the game on the last turn than Vuvazeela had expected. Uncle Max had "read" his opponent correctly.
Immediately afterwards, Vuvazeela lost all color and control of his emotions: He jumped up and loudly and without reason accused Uncle Max of cheating at the game.
This accusation, which was as outrageous as it was untrue and defamatory, caused an overwhelming anger to rise up in Uncle Max. He lost his calm reserve, jumped up too and demanded that Vuvazeela take it back immediately.
Vuvazeela, in turn, lost his reason and instead of coming to his senses and apologizing for his behavior, attacked Uncle Max with his huge fists like a Lavenian Tree Grub that was irritated to the point of blood.
He made a huge mistake, because Uncle Max had already been a true master of fist fighting during his time as a student at the Lave Academy. So, within micro-time slices, Vuvazeela lost a large incisor tooth, blood from a broken nose and the contents of his stomach.
Immediately afterwards, he lost the last of his reason and, as a bonus, his honor: He pulled out a long dagger from a hidden device on his spacesuit and gouged out Uncle Max's eye, which was lost too.
Uncle Max had not been prepared for an attack with a weapon and had therefore reacted a moment too late. Never in his life would Uncle Max have thought that someone who was not from Begeabi could be so stupid and ignorant as to bring a weapon into a Hoopy Casino on Aronar. You must know that the Hoopy casinos there are not just Casinos, but almost something like sacred places. Carrying and especially using a weapon in a Hoopy Casino is a taboo violation of the worst kind on Aronar, which has terrible consequences. Vuvazeela did not have another chance to attack. A loud, general outcry of indescribable indignation went through the casino at the unimaginable taboo violation. The locals, who had just been preparing for dinner by playing a game, came rushing in from all sides, in a rage. They grabbed Vuvazeela, held him down, and beat and kicked him with their hands and feet until he finally lost his life.
The events went down in the annals of Aronar. To this day, Vuvazeela's knocked-out tooth and the four playing cards that were found in the immediate vicinity of the tooth are kept and displayed in the casino where the events took place. The cards were the blue galaxy, the black galaxy (also called the black hole), the blue 8-moons, and the black 8-moons. This particular combination of cards has since become known on Aronar and far beyond as "the tooth of the dishonorable man."
In the end, things turned out relatively well for Uncle Max. The local laws of Aronar stipulate that in the event of an armed attack in a Hoopy casino, the material possessions of the attacker go to the victim as a ransom. Uncle Max was therefore awarded the ship that Bras Vuvazeela had traveled on, along with everything on it. It was a fine ship and Uncle Max still has it today - you know the "Firewizzard". Its cargo hold was well filled and did not contain goat meat, as one might have expected, but a much more valuable cargo. The value was high enough that Uncle Max was able to use the profit from the sale to travel to Ceesxe and have a replacement made for his lost eye. The very "magic eye" that you are so interested in.
Oh yes, you also wanted to know what it can do. In addition to seeing during the day, like our normal eyes can, it can also see at night, for example, and even light that is invisible to our normal eyes. To be precise, it is a bio-robotic eye prosthesis with a nano-designed multi-wave sensor and an external interface for all kinds of additional devices. The small device is...
Hanku continued his dry, technical explanations, which the kittens couldn't understand yet anyway, for a little while longer. Then he furtively looked at the three of them one after the other and noticed that the extremely boring part at the end of the story had served its purpose exactly: everyone had their eyes closed and was breathing calmly and regularly.
Only now did Hanku realize that he probably had another challenge to overcome because he hadn't considered something: to get back to the party, he had to briefly open either the bulkhead door to the main corridor or the bulkhead door between the residential units. In both cases, it would get louder for a moment and there was a risk that the kittens would wake up again. He decided to just wait another quarter of a time before leaving. Then the kittens would already be sleeping deeply and the probability of waking up would be minimal.
He carefully got up from the edge of Gorlog's bunk, quietly moved the fourth bunk, which was still free, into a comfortable sitting position, sat down on it and stretched out his hind legs. He let his thoughts wander and tiredness slowly overcame him without him even being aware of it. Slowly his mind slipped over into the universe of dreams and memories and back to the time when he himself had commanded a spaceship and no gaming table in any Hoopy casino on Spaceway L1 had been safe from him and his crew. And that despite the fact that his grandelder and his elder had never tired of warning him that gambling brings nothing but trouble, annoyance and losses. But Hanku had always had a mind of his own…
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