Access Denied

For days, Niklas had carried this difficult-to-grasp feeling that something was not quite right. It was not acute pressure, not a specific deadline breathing down his neck, but rather a quiet, persistent awareness that a project, while officially close to completion, in truth still held enough small stumbling blocks to ruin the coming weeks for him. Such things rarely announced themselves loudly. They lay hidden in details, waiting to be overlooked, and that was exactly what made them dangerous.

He sat at his desk and let his gaze wander back and forth between the screen and a handwritten list of outstanding items. Three entries were still left. Nothing dramatic, at least at first glance, and yet something kept him from simply putting a check mark next to them. Outside, it had long since grown dark, even though it was only shortly after half past five. Late November did not leave much room for the day, and the pale light of the streetlamps was reflected in the windowpane, as if it were slowly taking over the room from outside.

A quiet knock tore him from his thoughts.

»Do you have a moment?«, asked Uwe and remained standing in the doorway, as if he wanted to keep open the possibility of disappearing again at once. Niklas leaned back and pushed the chair a little away from the desk. »Yes, I was about to call it a day anyway.« »Perfect. Can you come over for a moment? Gabi is already waiting.«

The meeting room was brightly lit, almost unnaturally so in contrast to the darkness outside. On the table stood two coffee cups, one of them obviously untouched for some time. The surface was smooth, cooled down, as if the conversation that was about to take place here had already been prepared for a while.

Gabi was sitting at the head of the table and smiled as Niklas entered. That professional, yet still honest smile he knew from her. »Please, have a seat.«

Niklas sat down and almost automatically opened his notebook, more out of habit than out of any real necessity. The familiar flow of a meeting took hold even when no meeting had actually been announced.

»We don’t want to keep you long«, began Gabi and briefly folded her hands on the table. »But we wanted to officially close the project today.« Niklas nodded slowly. »The last tests ran cleanly. I’ll send out the final document tomorrow morning.«

»That fits«, said Uwe and leaned slightly against the table. »We looked over everything. It really turned out well.«

Niklas gave an almost imperceptible shrug. »It was quite a bit of work, too.«

Gabi exchanged a brief glance with Uwe. A silent agreement that did not escape Niklas.

»And that is exactly why we thought of something.«

Uwe reached under the table and placed an envelope in front of Niklas. It was thicker than a normal envelope and seemed heavier than it should have been. For a moment, no one said anything.

Niklas looked at it, as if its contents could be decoded by weight alone. »What is this?«

»Open it.«

He hesitated for a moment, then opened the envelope and pulled out several pages. His gaze slid over the first page, stopped, returned, as if he had to be sure he was not mistaken.

»A cruise?«, he finally asked slowly.

»A cruise«, Gabi confirmed calmly. »At the beginning of January. Metropolis Tour. With the MSC Poesia.«

[…]

[…]

An envelope was hanging on the door. He pulled it off, opened it, and took out the cruise card. His name, his cabin number, an inconspicuous piece of plastic that from now on regulated everything. Access to the cabin, access to the ship, means of payment at bars and in the boutiques. A central system, well thought out and efficient. And like any central system, it was only as trustworthy as the rules by which it operated.

For a moment, his gaze rested on the card. One small object that connected everything. He held it to the reader. For a fraction of a second, a red light flickered. Then it changed to green. A quiet click. The door opened.

Niklas paused. Probably just a reading error, a delay in the system, nothing unusual. And yet he did not like systems that gave contradictory answers at the very first interaction.

[…]

[…]

In the Zebra Bar, it was considerably fuller than the day before. A host was already standing on a small stage, trying with an upbeat voice to activate even the last undecided guests.

»Quiz o’clock«, she called cheerfully. »Who’s joining?«

Niklas hesitated only briefly and sat down.

»Alone or in a team?«, she asked.

»Alone.«

She smiled. »Brave.«

The questions began. This time it was about history, with the usual estimation questions in between, where luck and self-confidence were equally important. Niklas answered calmly and without haste. Along the way, he listened to the others, less out of curiosity than out of habit.

Beside him sat a young woman who was carefully taking notes and looked as if she were taking the whole thing considerably more seriously than most of the others.

»You’re good«, she said quietly.

Niklas gave her a brief glance. »So-so.«

»I’m Clara.«

»Niklas.«

»Then you’ll win this«, she said with a matter-of-factness that involuntarily amused him.

»We’ll see.«

In the end, she was right. The host announced him as the winner and handed him a small package. Niklas opened it right there at his seat and looked inside.

Another MSC shirt.

»Again?«, he murmured.

Clara laughed. »Then you are now officially part of the MSC Poesia quiz team.«

[…]