Easter Island

Arthur Guthlac, who could never hope to go further into Space than a cheap package holiday to the Moon, envied his sister Selina more than he could easily say.

Apart from the ramrobots and the few, incredibly expensive, colony-ships, journeys beyond the Solar System were rare, and the queue of scientists with projects for Space was always growing. It was a staggering accolade for the gravity-anomaly project to have been selected for funding.

But the museum attendant and his brilliant sister had always been close, and the separation would be long. They stayed together for the last few days before the Happy Gatherer left Earth. He produced the model the night before the research ship’s departure.

“Take this,” Arthur said. “A small gift for you.”

It was an ancient sea-going ship, cast in metal, a little more than the length of her hand.

“An antique? You haven’t stolen it from the museum, have you?”

She put a laugh in her voice. So did he.

“Antique, but not stolen. I was at a conference at Greenwich Museum in London on automated security for children’s galleries, and they gave the delegates mementos. So I hand it on to you, setting out on a voyage, like those old pioneers of the sea. I got one for each of us. They were two sibling-ships, I gather: built to the same design.”

“Nice of them to give you two.”

“They were throwing them away to make space for dance history exhibits. I saw hundreds in a trash-compactor… Perhaps,” he added with seeming carelessness, “they were Military Fantasy cult objects.”