The Flying Castle: Part 1

For two weeks, Lumina and I had been confined to Dad’s room—a space that, while functional, was far from ideal for human habitation. It wasn’t just small; it was claustrophobic. Shelves were crammed with experimental tools, half-assembled gadgets, and stacks of thick binders overflowing with notes. A single bed nestled in the corner served as our shared rest spot, so narrow that it required a silent negotiation of sleeping positions each night. The lack of a bathroom, however, was perhaps the most inconvenient part. The indignity of using bedpans was something neither of us had been prepared for, yet it was a necessity forced upon us by the security staff after our attempted breach.

The isolation gnawed at me, leaving me restless and frustrated. Dad’s absence only made things harder. He was consumed by his work in the main laboratory, an invisible figure in our lives who, despite being so close, felt worlds away. On rare occasions, I’d catch glimpses of his blueprints spread across the desk—complex drawings etched with lines and symbols that seemed to hum with purpose. But deciphering them felt like grasping at smoke, their intricacies frustratingly beyond my reach.

Lumina, however, managed to keep herself busy. Even at her weakest moments, she refused to let the confinement dampen her spirits. Her laughter echoed through the room more often than I thought possible, bright and infectious, lifting my own mood even when I couldn’t bring myself to smile. Nutmeg, her ever-loyal companion, dashed around like a tiny whirlwind, creating a chaos of squeaks and scurrying paws that became an unexpected source of joy.

As I tried to puzzle over the latest blueprint sprawled before me, a soft knock came at the door.

“Hey, Franny!” Lumina called out excitedly, already rushing to the door before I could respond.

The visitor was Francesca—Franny, as we called her—a cheerful young lady whose upbeat personality added warmth to the cold sterility of Dad’s room. She was his assistant and, by extension, our unofficial caretaker during these long weeks.

“You’re looking lively today!” Franny exclaimed as she stepped into the room with a tray of food, her bright voice cutting through the monotony that had settled over us. The warmth in her tone was a stark contrast to the cold sterility of Dad’s chambers. “I’m glad to see you’re doing better.”

“Yup, yup! Isn’t that right, Nutmeg?” Lumina grinned, holding up her furry companion as he bounded between her shoulders in a triumphant display of energy. His tiny feet barely touched her skin before darting off again, his movement a playful hurrah.

Franny laughed. “It’s nice to see Nutmeg’s spirits are as high as yours.”

“Sorry for making you come back every day to deal with... well, you know,” I said awkwardly, the topic of bedpans a necessary embarrassment.

Franny shrugged good-naturedly. “It’s no trouble. Honestly, blame Diego. He’s the one being overly strict—all rules and zero flexibility.”

Diego—the head of security—had made it clear after our stunt at the ship’s entrance that we were to be confined for two weeks. His enforcement of the rules was strict but unwavering, much to Franny’s annoyance.

“Is Daddy not going to join us for breakfast today?” Lumina asked suddenly, her voice hopeful but tentative.

Franny’s expression softened. “I’m not sure. He’s been really busy in the main lab. But,” she added brightly, “since your two weeks are up, you should be able to finally leave the room and visit him in the laboratory today.”

Lumina’s face lit up, her energy returning in full force. “Nutmeg, that means we can explore the ship!” she exclaimed, spinning around in a burst of joy.

The prospect of freedom felt surreal. Pulling on warm clothes, we stepped out into the corridor, our senses overwhelmed by the scale of the ship. The endless hallways stretched in every direction, illuminated by soft panels that cast a gentle glow across pristine walls. The hum of machinery thrummed faintly, an ever-present backdrop that reminded us of the ship’s lifeline—the technological brilliance keeping it afloat.

Lumina tugged at my sleeve, her excitement contagious. “Come on, Sissy! I heard there’s a garden room with glowing plants! Let’s find it!”

Her words sparked a sense of adventure I hadn’t felt in a while. The corridors we wandered through weren’t just pathways; they were gateways to human ingenuity—a marvel of innovation that felt almost alien in its perfection. Each turn promised new discoveries, and for the first time in weeks, the weight pressing on my shoulders began to lift.

As we turned a corner, voices echoed from up ahead, along with the sound of laughter. A group of kids, no older than Lumina, were gathered in an open common area, their attention fixated on someone at the center of the commotion. This made me squint, trying to make out what was going on.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” the boy at the center announced with a dramatic flourish, holding up what looked like a contraption made of wires, batteries, and—was that a whisk? “I give you… the Electro-Vortex Anti-Squeak 5000! Perfect for powering your gadgets and keeping rodents from chewing through your wires. A double-win for humanity!”

The kids erupted in cheers and applause, their admiration almost palpable. The boy, who looked about my age, took an exaggerated bow, his messy hair flopping over his forehead. His grin was wide and unrestrained, the kind of confidence that came from someone entirely comfortable being their eccentric self.

“Who’s that?” Lumina whispered, her eyes wide.

“I don’t know,” I muttered. “But he’s definitely… something.”

The boy—Aiden, as the kids began to chant his name—noticed their presence and waved them over. “Ah, new faces! How wonderful! Come, come! Step into the laboratory of genius!”

I hesitated, but Lumina, ever the social butterfly, skipped forward. “Hi! What’s the Anti-Squeak thingy do again?”

Aiden’s eyes lit up at her question. “Ah, an inquisitive mind! You’re going to love this. See, I’ve been studying the power dynamics on the ship, and I realized that maintaining efficiency is key. That’s where this baby comes in—keeps the energy flowing and protects the wires from little critters. Not that we have too many here, but you can never be too prepared!”

Nutmeg squeaked indignantly from Lumina's pocket, poking his tiny head out as if personally offended by this revelation.

"I don't know if Nutmeg approves," Lumina giggled, her cheeks flushed  with excitement.

Aiden crouched to peer at the hamster with exaggerated seriousness, tipping his head to one side like a scientist considering a groundbreaking hypothesis. "Ah, Nutmeg, the noble exception! A creature of refined tastes who wouldn't sully his reputation gnawing on wires. Fear now, my good fellow; this device is simply humanity's precaution, not a slight against your character.

The other kids buzzed around Aiden, hanging on his every word as he demonstrated his device, which made a small zap and whirring sound. Lumina was captivated, laughing along with the rest of them as Aiden performed his theatrics. On the other hand, I stood back, arms crossed, watching with a mixture of exasperation and disbelief.

“You think you’re some kind of genius, don’t you?” I finally said, my tone a little sharper than intended.

Aiden turned to me, his smile unwavering. “Not just a genius. The genius,” he corrected cheekily. “But don’t worry, you’ll come around eventually. Everyone does.”

This made me roll my eyes, already feeling the headache forming. “Yeah, don’t hold your breath.”

As the kids cheered for Aiden again, I sighed audibly, dragging my fingers through my hair. I didn’t get him—at all. The way the other kids adored him, the chaotic energy he radiated… it was all too much. But as I glanced at Lumina, who was grinning ear to ear, I decided I could tolerate him. For now.

“Watch this, everyone!” Aiden’s voice rang out, his enthusiasm palpable as he adjusted the wires on his invention. “Just one more tweak, and the Electro-Vortex Anti-Squeak 5000 will be a marvel of human achievement!”

Seeing this made me want to stand a safe distance away, folded my arms and narrowing my eyes at the contraption. “You’re sure that thing isn’t supposed to smoke like that?” I asked, skepticism dripping from my tone.

“It’s all part of the process!” Aiden grinned, dismissing my concern with a wave of his hand.

And then—BOOM!

The device exploded in a cloud of sparks and smoke, sending the kids around him shrieking and scattering. A small fire ignited on the floor, flames licking at the air as chaos erupted. The action made everyone cough, waving the smoke away and glaring at Aiden with the kind of look that could melt steel.

“Seriously?!” I snapped. “What is wrong with you?”

“I prefer to think of it as an experiment that got overly enthusiastic,” Aiden replied, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly. “Science is supposed to be explosive!”

The blaring sound of alarms echoed through the hallway, and red warning lights flashed overhead. Within moments, security personnel stormed in, armed with fire extinguishers. Foam sprayed in all directions as they tackled the flames, reducing the fire to a smoldering mess in mere moments.

“What in the world is going on here?!” barked one of the guards. I hadn't noticed at first but it was Diego, his sharp gaze cutting across the room. The kids froze, clearly intimidated, while Aiden stood casually among the wreckage like nothing out of the ordinary had occurred.

“I can explain!” Aiden started, raising his hands as if surrendering. “It was a controlled experiment. Well, mostly controlled…”

“Controlled?!” Diego's voice rose. “That explosion could’ve caused a chain reaction! Do you have any idea what kind of risk you just created?”

Before Aiden could reply, another voice cut through the chaos, lighthearted yet firm. “Ah, what’s this I hear about my favorite troublemaker blowing up something again?”

Heads turned as a man strolled into the room, his military coat draped casually over his shoulders, his smile slightly amused but tinged with exasperation. The security guards visibly relaxed, stepping aside to let him through.

“Uncle!” Aiden groaned, though his grin betrayed his attempt at irritation. “Do you have to use that tone every single time?”

“Yes,” Noah replied cheerfully, hands on his hips as he surveyed the scene. “Because every single time, you manage to make trouble. It’s practically your hobby.”

I blinked, staring at the man in disbelief. “This is your uncle?!”

“Oh, yes,” Aiden muttered, rolling his eyes dramatically. “Old man Noah, ruler of the floating fortress and part-time lecture enthusiast.”

Hearing that, the captain of the ship turned to face us. "Apologies for not introducing myself. My name Captain Arkwright but you may call me Noah," the elderly gentleman stated as he greeted my sister and I.

"Hi. I'm Delia and this is my little sister Lumina," I responded back. "I wanted to deeply apologize for the disruption that occurred a while back."

Noah chuckled, shaking his head as he approached the remains of the gadget. “What have you done this time, Aiden?” His voice was firm but carried an undeniable warmth.

“Well, Uncle, you see, this was supposed to be a breakthrough in anti-rodent technology,” Aiden said, gesturing toward the wreckage. “The Electro-Vortex Anti-Squeak 5000 was revolutionary. Revolutionary and slightly combustible.”

“Slightly combustible, huh?” Noah repeated with a smirk, crouching down to examine the scorched pieces of the device. “And let me guess—your idea of ‘testing’ involved skipping a few safety precautions?”

“I call it creative efficiency,” Aiden replied with a shrug.

Noah straightened, his hands planted firmly on his hips. “I call it reckless chaos. You’re giving me gray hairs, kid.”

“I prefer to call them wisdom streaks, old man,” Aiden quipped, grinning mischievously.

It was then that Noah began to turn his attention to us. As he chuckled, the sound low and genuine as he extended a hand. "It is nice to finally meet the both of you. Welcome to our... unique corner of the world. I see you've already met our resident inventor and chaos-generator."

Lumina, oblivious to the situation, beamed at Noah. "Hi, I'm Lumina! And this is my big sister, Delia. Aiden showed us his invention, and Nutmeg thought it was really cool."

Noah let out a hardy laugh but couldn’t entirely suppress his smile returning his attention back at Aiden. “All right, troublemaker. Here’s the deal: no experiments outside the lab for a month. If I hear another explosion, I’m personally confiscating your tools.”

“Harsh but fair,” Aiden said, shrugging in acceptance.

Turning to the security team, Noah clapped his hands. “Thanks for your quick response, everyone. Let’s clean up this mess before Aiden tries to accidentally reinvent fire again.”