This week’s opening is for a middle grade adventure story – a SPACE adventure story
My name is Cinnamon Chou and Iâm a detective.
Okay, Iâm a kid, but Iâm going to be a detective when I grow up. Just like my dad. For now, Iâm practicing on the easy stuff. You know, like lost full-spectrum goggles (âTheyâre perched on top of your head, Master Engineer Wyandotteâ), missing red silk slippers (âGot âem, Mrs. Abrega! When was the last time you cleaned under your bed?â), or my favorite, The Case of the Missing Inarian.
Whatâs an Inarian? Iâm glad you asked.
An Inarian is a warm-blooded denizen of the planet Inaria. Theyâre cute and cuddly and definitely donât meet the standard of intelligence necessary to classify them as sentient. Reading through my datalinks on old earth biology, Iâve decided theyâre pretty similar to hamsters. They make great pets, but theyâre about as bright as deep space with no stars in sight.
My best friend, Lando Maxon, has an Inarian named Dumpling. When Lando woke up that morning, he discovered that Dumpling had managed to escape from his habitat. Inarians may not be smart, but they can wriggle out of places youâd swear were tightly sealed.
Normally, a Dumpling escape wouldnât merit my intervention as a detective. Lando would just set out a bowl of Dumplingâs favorite treats and wait for his pet to get hungry. But today was not a normal day. Today Lando and his family were leaving the space station and returning to Centauri Three, their home planet.
Thatâs one of the real bummers about living on a space station. Sooner or later all of your friends move away.
Of course, the up side is that new friends cycle in constantly.
At least, thatâs what my mom tells me every time a close friend leaves for a distant star system. Dad says Mom is an optimist. Heâs right, but so is she. By the time I grow up and take my place in the Universal Star League, Iâll have friends in so many star systems Iâll need my own database just to keep track of them all.
Back to Dumpling. I was eating breakfast with Mom and Dad when Lando pinged my link. âLando Maxon,â my link announced.
Mom frowned at the link on my wrist. âNot at the table, Cinnamon,â she said, using her duty officer voice. âYou know the rules.â
I swallowed a mouthful of protein-rich, calcium-enhanced syntho-juice, wiped my mouth on a recycled napkin and said, âBut Mom, Lando is leaving the station in less than six hours. If I donât answer him, I may not have another chance.â
Mom glanced at Dad, who nodded.
âVery well, Cinnamon,â she said, âYour father and I will make an exception this time. You are dismissed.â
I grabbed a slice of replicated toast, jumped out of my chair, and dashed for the door. I didnât want to give Mom time to reconsider.