****************************Chapter 12*************************************

I awoke to a loud knocking on my door. Groggily, I removed the book from my face and swung out of the too comfortable bed. I muttered quietly to myself about the state of mind of the designers while I walked to the door. I palmed it open and blinked. My parents and friends were standing there, ready for the tour.

"Has it already been six hours?" I asked, looking at the small chrono device on the desk. It seemed that five hours had indeed passed.

"I'm sorry. I guess I was more tired than I thought." I lifted the book I was still holding and shrugged. "I tried to get some reading done, but I must have fallen asleep. I'll just mark my place and I'll be ready to go." I found a slip of paper that I used as a bookmark and placed it in between the pages. *135 already? I guess I read more than I remember.*

"Reading that thing again, David?" my father asked, a wide grin on his face.

"Of course. You know it's always been one of my favourites." I grinned back and placed the book on the desk. I put the jacket back on and then joined the others at the door. "So where are we going first?" I asked my parents.

My mother slipped her arm into mine and we started towards the lift. "I thought that a meal at the Fresh Aire would be appropriate since that is where your father and I first had dinner together. However, due to the decreasing amount of shipments through the station, it has closed. So, we are going to get a 'snack' from the Zocalo and then we will simply walk around for a time. Micheal will contact us when dinner is ready. He and Lise are preparing one of his specialties. I believe it is pronounce 'lasagna?'" My mother looked up at my father, who was walking on her other side.

My father chuckled and nodded. "Perfect on the fifth try." He let out a breath and rolled his eyes as mother elbowed him in the ribs. She was smiling up at him, so it was easy to see that she was not really mad.

"John, it is not my fault if your people were so insular that they each demanded a different language for every nation. On Minbar, we have had a common language used by all for nearly two thousand of your years."

"True, but you can't deny that even on Minbar there are regional dialects. Not to mention that each Cast has their OWN language that is usually not know outside of the cast. Except by the Religious cast who make it their business to know ALL the languages and dialects."

My mother chose to ignore the comment and my father winked at me over her head. We rode down to the Zocalo in relative silence, Shannon and Kahlen whispering to each other in the back. I glanced over my shoulder at them and caught them studying Marcel with an evil gleam in their eyes. I pitied my friend. When those two got THAT look in their eyes, there was no telling what they were going to do.

I quickly turned away and stifled a giggled. Whatever they were planning, I knew it would be somtething that Marcel would not really appreciate at the time. He might come to be grateful, once they had pounded it into his head for a few weeks.

The doors slid open and we stepped out into the crowd. Mary, who had come along, pulled Shannon and Kahlen off to one of her favourite stores, while Marcel and I followed my parents around the Zocalo. They pointed out assorted spots where important things had happened to them. The Universe Today booth were my mother had teased my father out of a bad mood by playing on her lack of knowledge about English. The overhanging walkway were my father had first reappeared after he was presumed dead on Zhahadum. The store where my father had bought my mother's engagement ring.

We stopped at a human vendor who was selling what he claimed was authentic Earth hot dogs. I took a deep breath and sighed. Whatever was in them, they sure did smell authentic. I ordered two and handed one to Marcel. I studied the choices of condiments, before deciding to put mustard and relish, with a few onions and a slice of cheese. My mother frowned at me and I shrugged. My father just laughed and bought himself one. He only liked them with ketchup and relish. It had been Uncle Mike who had introduced me to some of the more exotic toppings. Marcel watched us load them. Since he had never had a hotdog before, he decided to copy what I had. He then added the ketchup and topped it off with a few slices of pickles.

We started walking, my mother occasionally frowning at us for buying what she considered wasted calories. My father had put on a few pounds but was still in great shape. I guess that that was partly due to my mother's influence on his diet. If my father had lived anywhere near earth foods for the last 17 years, he would surely have gained a lot of weight. He loved greasy foods and red meat.

I spotted the girls giggling together in a human clothing shop. I was surprised to see styles from several alien worlds displayed in the windows. Even the material seemed to be from dozens of different worlds. I wondered how the owner had managed to get such exotic stock.

My mother was now explaining to Marcel, who had nearly swallowed the hotdog whole when he had decided he liked it, how she had met my father. It was common knowledge to the rest of the galaxy, but Marcel had been cut off from us for most of his life. He didn't understand things that the rest of galactic society took for granted.

Eventually, the girls came out of the shop with several bags. They were still giggling and I began to become curious about what they could find so funny. I had little experience with young human women. In fact, aside from the two who were only a few feet away, and the three others who were training at the same station as I, I had never been around any young human women. Mary was the only one I had ever met before signing on with the rangers. And she had never seemed strange.

We walked around for a time, my mother occasionally directing us into certain stores and areas she had shopped at. It was amazing. I had no idea that my mother had once bought an encyclopaedia set from the station. I had always assumed that as Ambassador, she had been provided with such things. She explained that while the Grey Council had done its best to inform her about human and alien customs, she had always found it best to do some research on her own.

So she had purchased items about the other races from members of that race. That way, she explained, she was able to see what the common members of that race did with their lives and how they lived. It had given her an advantage over the other ambassadors because so few people had much of an interest in learning about the complex relationships between the three Minbari Casts. She had learned some of each of the old Leagues main languages so that she could understand some of what was discussed around her when she was in chambers. Few had ever expressed an interest in learning Minbari. At least, until she and father formed the Alliance and opened the Rangers to all races in the Alliance.

Eventually, my father's link sounded and Uncle Mike's voice came out of it, telling us that supper was ready and if we weren't there in ten minutes, we would have to eat cold leftovers.

We hurried into the nearest lift and back to Uncle Mike's quarters for a homemade, authentic Italian meal.