Visit the “A Bedtime Story” show website to submit your story ideas for a future episode!

Welcome to A Bedtime Story. I'm Matthew Mitchell, and tonight's story is titled The Souvenir That Wouldn't Quit, Part 1 of this week's series: The Midnight Curfew for Intergalactic Tourists.

Jax was not having a particularly successful Tuesday. He stood in the middle of the Starlight Bazaar, a sprawling marketplace built into the side of a massive, hollowed-out asteroid. Above him, the artificial atmosphere was tinted a deep purple, shimmering with the reflected lights of thousands of neon signs and the flickering engines of passing shuttles. The air smelled faintly of burnt copper and spicy street food, but definitely not like the fresh morning air of Earth. Jax missed Earth. He missed gravity that didn't occasionally hiccup, and he missed coffee that didn't move when you tried to drink it.

He was a courier by trade, or at least he had been until his ship, the Rusty Bucket, had developed a personality disorder and decided that the propulsion system was merely a suggestion. Now, he was stranded on the asteroid until he could find a part that cost more than his entire education. He wandered past stalls selling everything from liquid crystal jewelry to holographic pets that never needed cleaning. His goal was simple: find something he could flip for a profit, or find a miracle.

Near the back of the market, tucked between a shop selling singing crystals and another selling used robot limbs, was a tiny, dim stall. An old man with skin the texture of a dried apricot sat behind a counter covered in dusty trinkets. In the center of the display sat a small, metallic orb. It was the size of a grapefruit, crafted from a dull, brushed silver metal that seemed to absorb the neon light around it rather than reflecting it.

"That looks expensive," Jax said, leaning over the counter.

The old man didn't look up. "It is not expensive. It is complicated. There is a difference."

"How much for the complicated sphere?" Jax asked, poking it with a finger. The metal felt warm, almost like it had a pulse.

"Twenty credits," the man whispered. "But only if you take it right now and do not bring it back. No refunds. No exchanges. No complaining to the Galactic Trade Bureau."

Jax frowned. Twenty credits was a steal. In fact, it was suspicious. But he was desperate. He handed over his last remaining physical currency and tucked the orb into his jacket pocket. It felt heavier than it looked, pulling his coat down on one side. He began the long walk back to the docking bay where his broken ship awaited.

As he walked, he noticed something strange. The orb was vibrating. It started as a low hum, like a distant bee, but quickly grew into a rhythmic thrumming. He reached into his pocket to steady it, but the orb suddenly lurched. It felt like it was trying to jump out of his hand.

"Hey, easy there," Jax muttered, looking around to see if anyone was watching. The market was getting crowded as the "sunset" cycle began. The purple sky shifted to a deep, bruised indigo.

He ducked into a side alley to inspect his purchase. He pulled the orb out and held it up to the light. Suddenly, a thin line appeared around its equator. The sphere split open, and a tiny, glowing blue eye blinked at him from the center.

"Well, it is about time," a voice chirped. The sound was high-pitched and metallic, coming directly from the orb. "The air in that pocket was incredibly stale. Do you ever wash that jacket? I detected at least three different types of interstellar grime and a very concerning crumb from a lunar sandwich."

Jax nearly dropped the orb. "You can talk?"

"I can do many things," the orb replied, rotating its blue eye to look around the alley. "I can calculate the trajectory of a falling star, I can recite the lost poetry of the Venusian monks, and I can tell you that you are currently being followed by three very large, very angry-looking individuals in matching leather vests."

Jax froze. He didn't look back immediately. "Wait, what? Why?"

"Probably because Malo, the man who sold me to you, forgot to mention that I am actually the central navigation core for the local governor’s private yacht," the orb said casually. "And he stole me. And now you have me. Which makes you the thief in the eyes of the law. Or at least in the eyes of those gentlemen behind you who are currently reaching for their stun-batons."

Jax took a deep breath. "Is there any good news?"

"I have a very efficient map of the service tunnels," the orb said. "If you start running in approximately three seconds, we might actually make it to your ship before you are turned into a very handsome statue."

"One," the orb counted.

Jax didn't wait for two. He bolted down the alley, the orb vibrating wildly in his hand. He could hear the heavy thud of boots behind him. The chase was on, and Jax realized he had just bought a lot more than a simple souvenir. He had bought a one-way ticket to the most stressful night of his life.

"Turn left at the pile of discarded fuel cells!" the orb shouted. "And try to run faster. Your cardio levels are frankly embarrassing for someone of your age."

Jax rounded the corner, nearly colliding with a hovering trash bin. He could see the lights of the docking bay in the distance, but the path was blocked by a wall of shipping containers. He was trapped.

"Up!" the orb commanded. "There is a ladder on the side of the blue container. Move, move, move!"

Jax scrambled up the metal rungs, his heart hammering against his ribs. He reached the top and looked back. The three men were already at the base of the ladder. They didn't look like they wanted to talk about his twenty-credit investment. They looked like they wanted the orb back, and they didn't care if Jax was attached to it or not.

"Great," Jax panted, looking out over the sea of containers. "What now, genius?"

"Now," the orb said, its eye glowing brighter, "we jump."