Lost in Space. Joaquim Augusto Ferreira Barbosa de Melo

      At the airport the arrival of several members of the Government and advisors was expected at any time. On the runway there were clear signs that the commercial aircraft, flight 367 to New York, was about to depart. Two light vehicles with security personnel were already by the access ladder, awaiting the departure of the members of the Government. The first class of that flight was reserved exclusively for the governmental entourage. The remaining passengers travelling in tourist class were waiting in their seats for the start of protocol procedures and take-off. The flight crew, more worried than usual, was making the last arrangements for everything work perfectly. Shortly thereafter, a disused movement near the main entrance of the departures building, made suspicion of the approximation of the entourage. In fact, a few hundred metres away, police scouts opened the way to the passage of several luxury and high-capacity cars, which followed them. Minutes later, within the main building of the airport, about two dozen passengers, escorted by security guards, were walking in an accelerated pace through corridors and passageways towards the boarding gate. Completed the formalities of boarding control, the special passengers were routed to the inside of a bus that awaited them to transport them to the plane. Once on board the aircraft, the Commander initiated the protocol for take-off, followed by the security procedures performed by the flight attendants. Shortly thereafter, an increase in the noise of the reactors announced that the aircraft began to leave the secondary runway heading to the main one. The first moments were experienced by the passengers and crew in silence, as if it were a liturgical act, perhaps because the senses warned them to the dangers of such manoeuvre. Gradually the plane was acquiring speed until in a final effort freed itself from firm ground to give wings to the wide space of the infinite sky that embraced it. In a few seconds the air giant, defying gravity, started climbing, climbing, and gradually positioning itself on what would be its most constant route in the next few hours. On board, a light signal indicated to the passengers that they could now relax and circulate. The information did not go unnoticed to the restless Cristina, an eight-year-old girl, who soon found reason to convince her parents, Marcelo and Margarida, that she had to leave her seat.

      -I’m going to Mário! -said Cristina, with a decisive voice.

      The father, a county Judge, who once more harnessed the judicial holidays for another exit with his wife, this time up to New York, nodded in concordance. It was the third trip they were doing abroad since they got married and the first one after Cristina’s birth. This time they were travelling in the company of another couple, their neighbours, Alberto and Paula, who were accompanied by their eight-year-old son, Mário. An on-board signal alerted the passengers to the availability of a video playing on the small screens on the backs of the seats. Almost simultaneously, through the corridors, the hostesses started distributing a snack and beverage service. This time it was up to the little Mario to bring to her friend Cristina a small offer from his parents, Alberto and Paula - a mini mermaid who opened her eyes whenever someone squeezed her. Cristina, with that little object, was happy and having fun showing it to the other passengers, followed closely by Mário. Even the flight attendants were now requested to look at that object in Cristina’s hands and to whom they returned a wide smile of sympathy.

      -What’s your little friend’s name? - asked one of the flight attendants.

      Cristina didn’t expect that question, so she just smiled. But the flight attendant wanting to induce a response, added:

      - Hmm! I know! You’re still thinking about the best date for baptism! Isn’t it!? When you decide, don’t forget to invite us! - said the flight attendant, with a wide smile. In that gesture, Cristina felt a strong sympathy, so she came out of her silence.

      -What’s your name? - Said Cristina, curious.

      - Florbela. What about you?

      -Cristina! – Replied timidly.

      Among them was established an empathy that would last.

      The flight attendants had not yet lifted the trays, and little Mário was already in the aisle, signalling to Cristina to accompany him. Cristina’s mother run her hand through Mário›s hair, in a gesture of affection, which was soon seized by him.

      -Can Cristina come with me?

      Cristina didn’t wait for her mother’s response to sneak out and disappear in a rush with her friend.

      Not far away, Nuno, an eleven-year-old boy, naughty enough, was making a tremendous effort to keep sitting beside his parents, with whom he travelled. For him it was an inaugural flight, so the impulse to trickery was curbed by the constant