Chapter XXXIII – Mei Xuelan’s Discordant Journey

  Over a thousand lightyears from her homeworld of Euthelion, the voice of the popstar Psyche belted out a rousing anthem across the brightly lit mallscape of Yuntu-9. The cosmic gulf between Euthelion and Yuntu-9 belied the similarities of both worlds – both were places where the expediencies of commerce had smoothed down every sharp edge, and shined every dull surface to gleam with pleasing and inoffensive light. Such a palace of consumption as Yuntu-9’s Star Junction Mall needed to be a comfortable place for people to spend their taels, and both the precisely maintained temperature, and the precisely produced sound of Psyche served to produce just such an elegant symphony of comfortable and glittering blandness.

  Nova appeared to be in two minds about all this.

  “This is her new single!” she had exclaimed when Psyche’s voice first sounded.

  “Whose exactly?” asked Tavian.

  “Psyche’s!” proclaimed Nova, as if slightly confused by the sheer idiocy of the question. “She’s amazing.”

  “Sure,” said Tavian, making minimal effort to mask just how disingenuous the word was.

  “Aren’t you supposed to be a musician?”

  “I am,” he said, then added, “Supposed to be.”

  “Then how do you not know Psyche?” asked Nova, indignantly, “She’s the biggest artist in the Cosmos.”

  “Sounds like she’s out of the league of a humble Bard like me.”

  “You betcha she is,” said Nova, then belatedly added, “No offense.”

  “Good save,” remarked Harry.

  They were making their way listlessly along the bright halls of Star Junction. For his part, Tavian was only vaguely paying attention to their surrounds. In his head he was playing around with some lyrics that had come to him half-formed as he woke that morning. Try as he might, he couldn’t quite find the right rhyme, though he liked the first line.

  Psyche was having no such trouble: “This is my emergence, breaking through the night; unfolding every moment, wings of endless light!” she declared in an uplifting and largely nonsensical fashion.

  Tavian lost his train of thought.

  “You know,” murmured Nova, “None of this was here last time I visited Yuntu-9. I remember it being a much… grimier place.”

  “Can’t stop the march of progress,” said Harry.

  “Reminds me of Shangxia’s orbital ring,” remarked Mingxia.

  “Yet somehow, even more soulless,” added Tavian.

  “I dunno, I have a soft spot for places like this,” said Harry. “You know when you’re in a place like this that there are a billion identical places across the Cosmos, so it’s like being nowhere… it’s almost a liminal vibe, but weirdly comforting.”

  “That’s one way of looking at it,” said Tavian.

  “I do kinda get what Harry means,” said Nova, “But I do miss the old Yuntu-9.”

  “You are far too young to be complaining about missing the old days,” said Tavian.

  Nova frowned at him. “Hey, I’m almost twenty!” she exclaimed.

  “My point stands.”

  “Don’t act high and mighty just ‘cause you’re older,” said Mingxia. “Nova’s a seasoned traveller, despite her age. Plus! Just think, to Seraphina all of us probably seem the same age.”

  “Yeah!” said Nova with a victorious tone. “What she said.”

  Tavian didn’t care enough to push the argument. “So, what was Yuntu-9 like… y’now, back in your day… granny?”

  Nova considered a moment, apparently ignoring the last part. “Mainly spaceship wreckers and miners, a few robotics workshops. It was a great place to get parts,” said Nova. “That’s why I thought we should come here. My baby girl needs some new accessories.”

  “Is there anything left of the original Amrita?” asked Tavian.

  “Of course!” said Nova, “But that doesn’t mean she doesn’t like a few additions every now and then. I never replace any of her core components, just peripheral stuff – y’know, to give her that extra edge. Lately the Cap’s had me work on boosting the ‘Rita’s deep space comms systems. I managed to get pretty good fidelity at even a thousand light-years.”

  “How do you test that?” asked Harry.

  “Bounce a message off a deep space relay station at five hundred light-years, see how the message is when you get it back,” said Nova. “Of course, you need to request the station not undertake any signal enhancement.”

  “Of course,” said Harry. “Makes sense. Why’d the Captain have you do that?”

  Nova shrugged. “He doesn’t usually explain his reasons. Although I noticed something cool – the ‘Rita’s Starflow-based systems were automatically communicating with the conventional systems and further bolstering comms range – seemingly using Starflow Filaments to do so. The Cap was pretty pleased with that. She’s a clever girl, my Amrita.”

  “Sounds cool,” said Tavian, insincerely. “And you think we’ll find anyone selling fancy Starflow parts here?”

  “Probably not Starflow-based tech,” said Nova, “But besides the Cap’s projects, I’ve got some enhancements of my own in mind.”

  “You really think we’ll find any parts here?” asked Tavian, casting a sceptical eye from a fried chicken outlet to a vendor of expensive streetwear.

  “I’ll admit, the vibe isn’t what I was expecting,” said Nova, “But, I still reckon all the old Yuntu stuff is still here, just hiding under all… this.”

  Tavian was about to say more, when Nova continued.

  “Plus, I wanna buy some stuff for Mu and Ser-bear.”

  “Despite the fact neither of them wanted to come here with you,” remarked Harry.

  Nova shrugged. “They just need some help sometimes. And they need some new outfits.”

  Tavian saw Harry look Nova up and down. She was dressed in her standard ensemble.

  “You on the other hand…” said Harry.

  “I have heaps of outfits.”

  “Sure. Well, at least if we’re going shopping, I’ll be here to provide some fashion advice.”

  “Thank the Stars!” said Tavian. “I’m sure Mu and Seraphina were getting worried they wouldn’t be able to dress like alcoholic dandies.”

  Harry gave him a disdainful look, “Like I’m the only alcoholic on board.”

  “Oooh, and I need to get them swimsuits,” said Nova, ignoring the others. “I don’t think Mu’s even gone to the Amrita’s pool yet.”

  “Has Seraphina even been to the pool?” asked Tavian.

  “I pick my battles,” said Nova, “But I’ve also just about convinced the Cap and Ostara to agree to taking us to Whaitere after we are finished on Luanyuan. And if that happens, I’m not even letting Sera stay behind.”

  “Whaitere?” asked Harry. “I used to work there.”

  “How am I only just hearing about this now?” asked Nova. “I’ve always wanted to go. Is it amazing?”

  “Yeah,” said Harry, “Pretty much.”

  “Wow…” said Nova, her eyes now far away.

  “I don’t think I’m familiar with Whaitere,” said Tavian.

  “Me neither,” added Mingxia.

  “It’s a world of coral reefs and islands and beaches and jungles—”

  “Aren’t we just about to go to a world covered in jungles?” asked Tavian.

  “No, but Luanyuan’s sound scary. These are nice jungles. Chill jungles,” said Nova.

  “Right,” said Tavian. “Well, I’m happy to cast my vote for that as our next destination. We could probably all use some downtime. Whatever awaits us on Luanyuan will probably only make that more the case.”

  “I wonder if anyone I know is still there…” murmured Harry.

  “On Luanyuan?” asked Tavian. “You know many criminals?”

  “On Whaitere,” snapped Harry.

  “Probably. You guys need to back me up,” said Nova. “You too, Mingxia.”

  “Er… well, I was kinda planning on leaving here,” said Mingxia, her eyes downcast.

  “Oh… right,” said Nova, sadly.

  “Yeah…” said Mingxia. Tavian thought she looked like she wanted to say more, but instead she fell silent.

  “Well, we will give you a good send-off before we depart for Luanyuan,” said Harry.

  “I look forward to it,” said Mingxia, giving a smile.

  “If we ever finish doing whatever we’re doing here,” said Tavian.

  “Parts for the Amrita! Outfits for the ladies! We can even get party supplies,” said Nova, holding up her fist and raising a finger with each item.

  “Party supplies?” said Harry, “What party supplies? We’ve got enough booze on board to euthanise a leviathan.”

  Nova shrugged. “I dunno, funny hats?”

  “True,” said Harry, “Those are important.”

  “Damn straight,” said Nova.

  Meanwhile, Mu had in fact left the Amrita, but she had wandered the brightly lit halls of Yuntu-9 alone. It had not been her intention to deceive the others – she had fully intended to stay aboard. But the shimmer of foresight had flickered across her consciousness. Something intriguing and troubling beckoned her.

  Not knowing what she was looking for, she wandered through the sanitised gleam of modernity, casting her eyes about. And casting her mind about. Where had that shimmer gone? That quiet call at the periphery of her consciousness?

  She was reminded of when she first wandered alone through the streets of Shangxia, waiting for a sign of what to do next, where to go. Then she had been truly alone, but this time she could always turn back and be welcomed into the warm glow of the Amrita. It seemed like a lifetime ago, but in truth the time since could be measured in weeks. How far she had come from the ornate halls and magnificent gardens of the Imperial Palace.

  With no destination in mind and no purpose but to pursue the shimmer, she paused at a wide window. Outside, the rocky surface of an asteroid bent away from her, the infinite expanse of the Cosmos presenting a dizzying vista beyond. Even with the bright lights of Yuntu-9’s Star Junction, the view of the stars, unmediated by a planetary atmosphere, was a thing to behold. One she had seldom seen in the first two decades of her life.

  She felt it again. She looked away from the impossibly distant points of light across the glass. The crowds bustled, a thousand conversations mingled into an undifferentiated hubbub of trivialities and pleasantries. It was a long way not just from the Imperial Court, but from the desperate struggle she had participated in on Yarkan. It was difficult to conceive that the sand-blasted ruins of Karbaliq and this temple of commerce were both parts of the same empire.

  Something beckoned her forward. What and to where she still did not know, but she followed nonetheless.

  But the scent faded again, and even though she probed the Starflow, it once again eluded her.

  She had faith, though, that it would come again.

  Absent any greater immediate purpose, she stopped to buy a pearl tea.

  Passing a mirrored column, she caught her distorted reflection on its rounded surface. Dressed in contemporary clothes, she certainly did not look the part of a princess of the White Horse Banner. Just a bored twenty-something girl sipping some sweet tea, window shopping aimlessly. She took another sip and a pearl got caught in her throat. She coughed and spluttered a little, but the tapioca slid smoothly down her throat, ending the momentary discomfort.

  The distraction meant she was startled when a loud sound erupted next to her. But it was just a passer-by laughing at a friend’s joke. Normalcy dominated here.

  She continued on.

  Until normalcy no longer dominated.

  A hand tapped her gently, but urgently on the shoulder. She turned. A young man in an immaculately tailored suit was standing next to her.

  “Follow me, please,” he said.

  She glanced around.

  “Quickly.”

  She probed the future. This was it. What it was remained unclear, but she sensed it was safe to follow the man. Safer than the alternative.

  She nodded and he led her down a service corridor that branched off the main mall. The security-protected door at the end of the corridor (‘Staff Only’) slid open when they approached, and soon they were in a far more utilitarian space than the carefully curated blandness of Star Junction’s public spaces.

  “Who are you?” she asked.

  “That’s not important,” said the man, “Do you trust me?”

  She considered a moment. Her future did not contain immediate danger. But something did trouble her.

  She nodded nonetheless.

  “You have grown more attuned to your special gift,” said the man. “But if you must address me, you can call me Mr Liu.”

  “Pleased to meet you… Mr Liu,” said Mu. “You know who I am?”

  He nodded, as she knew he would. Sometimes she still did not feel her foresight was real. She had to test it.

  “Why did you bring me here?” she asked.

  “About fifty metres behind you were a man and woman known as Mr Wang and Ms Chu. I believe you know them.”

  Her eyes widened.

  “The Resonance Bureau agents? From Shangxia?”

  Mr Liu nodded.

  “I thought they were called off,” she said.

  “Your patron has ensured they will not hunt you with such fervour as once they did. Still, it is safer to give them a wide berth. The Resonance Bureau’s eyes are ever watchful,” he said.

  He paused.

  Then he continued, conspiratorially, “But though the Resonance Bureau’s eyes are many and watchful, they are not so bright as to illuminate the Long Road.”

  “You work for Bright Eyes?” asked Mu.

  Mr Liu nodded.

  “Does he require something of me?”

  He shook his head. “He only wishes to assure you that though he has not communicated with you since you departed Shangxia, you remain important to him. And he wished for me to provide advice.”

  This is it, she thought.

  “You have many friends, Princess Mukushen,” he said, “Yet not all who portray themselves as such may truly be. Though Bright Eyes has sought to keep word of your special talent quiet, many are now aware of it.”

  Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  Mu frowned. “What special talent? I’m a Resonant, sure. But I am not remarkable, surely? I don’t know what you will tell me; I’m not like Bright Eyes. There are hundreds of thousands of Starseers in the Empire, many far more powerful than I am.”

  “You underestimate your talent,” said Mr Liu, “The Master of the Long Road has not yet revealed much to you, but in time They will, if you allow it.”

  “I need to cultivate… Manda?” asked Mu.

  “That is how some refer to it,” said Mr Liu, “You must learn to recognise the unique Resonance of the Master. Then more will be revealed to you than ever you imagined possible. All things are revealed to the mind of Nara Enduri.”

  “My dreams? I dream of ruin, past and present,” said Mu.

  “That is part of it, yet you lack clarity to connect these things. That does not mean they are unconnected.”

  “Nara Enduri granted Theophany to the First Emperor,” said Mu, “I witnessed on Yarkan what was wrought with that power.”

  Mr Liu nodded slowly. “Bright Eyes said you have conversed with the Emperor. You have witnessed the Machine Lord, have you not?”

  “I know of the Praetors and the Cosmokrator, if that is what you mean,” said Mu, “I know that is the justification the Emperor used… for everything.”

  “You must have faith in the Master of the Long Road,” said Mr Liu.

  “I could have a little more faith if everyone stopped being so damned mysterious all the time,” said Mu, frustration fuelling her sharpened tone.

  “The future is fragile,” said Mr Liu. “Bright Eyes dearly wishes he could reveal more to you.”

  “So I keep hearing. But I cannot reconcile what I witnessed on Yarkan with supporting the First Emperor’s… project.”

  Mr Liu sighed. “It is the curse of all those who have been given the gift of foresight that in order to achieve great things they should need to commit acts that might be judged harshly by those without the vision.”

  “Then, am I to take it that Bright Eyes supports the First Emperor? I thought… I thought that, in resisting my father, he resisted… the Empire’s tyranny.”

  “The Empire is vast and not all those who claim to serve it walk the Long Road, which runs straight and narrow from the Beginning to the End of All Things. The gift of Theophany is fading, but a new era of Theophany shall begin in time. Its dawn is not far off.”

  “What if there are other ways of resisting the Praetors?” asked Mu. “What if there are ways that do not involve genocide and oppression of however many quintillions of innocent people?”

  “I would urge you— Bright Eyes would urge you – not to underestimate the ambition of others who have the gift. They will do terrible things to achieve their aims, just as the First Emperor did. The right choice – the choice that keeps you on the Long Road – is seldom the easy one. We would not consider those who make the right choices heroes, if those choice were easy.”

  “Are you talking about Apollo? What terrible things has he done? He guides the Amrita. We saved Mingxia on Shangxia. We helped the Jaril fight for their freedom on Yarkan…”

  “How much do you know of this Apollo?”

  “I know he’s never committed genocide.”

  “Oh? And you are confident he will never take such drastic measures.”

  “He isn’t the Emperor,” replied Mu.

  “No, that he isn’t,” said Mr Liu.

  “And if he’s so bad… why did Bright Eyes guide me to him in the first place?”

  “I could not speak to the reasons for that. Bright Eyes has not enlightened me as to his reasoning. I will be concise. The Starship Amrita will soon voyage to Lan He to attend the Heart Orchid Festival. Bright Eyes will speak to you in person there. He will answer many of your questions more satisfactorily and with greater eloquence than I can muster. Until such time you must have faith – even through the trials yet to come.”

  “Yet to come? What awaits us on Luanyuan? I’ve sensed something,” said Mu.

  “A great seed of ruin has been planted on Luanyuan,” said Mr Liu. “You must be careful not to germinate it.”

  “Cryptic. Very helpful. Love it,” said Mu.

  “I am sorry I cannot speak with more clarity.”

  “I’m sure,” said Mu, bitterly. “Can you tell me one thing: is it one of these Praetors?”

  Mr Liu considered. “Luanyuan is certainly a world touched by the Praetors. But what you have sensed – it is not a Praetor. Though you should be no less cautious because of that fact.”

  Mu felt like she was losing her mind. Why could no one speak simply and directly?

  “So, what am I to do now?” asked Mu.

  Mr Liu appeared to choose his words carefully. “Continue on your present course. But be wary at all times. Probe the Starflow, accept the gifts of the Master. Be cautious of the motives of those around you. Bright Eyes will reveal more to you on Lan He. Until such time he wishes only to reassure you that you are not alone.”

  Mu was about to protest, but thought better of it. There was no point.

  “Fine,” she said, “Then may I ask how Ruyin is?” she asked.

  “Tender Hand is safe and is a loyal agent of Bright Eyes,” replied Mr Liu. “I believe it is Bright Eyes’ intention that she too shall be present on Lan He for the Heart Orchid Festival.”

  Mu gave a small smile. “I’m glad. Is that it?”

  He nodded. “For now.”

  Mu looked back up the corridor they’d come down. She gestured over her shoulder. “Have our friends from the Resonance Bureau passed?”

  “I believe so, though they will not be far. They have had you under close surveillance since you set foot on Yuntu-9. You would do well to return to your ship for the time being. They will not follow you to Luanyuan.”

  Mu sipped her tea, almost forgotten until that moment. “I didn’t like this place anyway.”

  Mei Xuelan was proud of herself. All day she had attended to her homework, studiously working through her mathematics and Music programs. Mother and Father would be very impressed, she just knew it. She looked over at Xixi. They sat watching Xuelan as she worked, slumped unmoving against the pillows of her bed. Father had told her that Xixi would be less talkative if she kept taking her medication. That made her a little sad, but she knew it made Father happy when she did what she was told, so she took her medication. Today that was a source of pride too – she’d remembered to take it, even without anyone asking.

  Besides, though she loved Xixi as dearly as ever she had, her truest desire was that her family would be happy and safe.

  That had been hard back home on Moyang of late. That was why Father had said they had to leave. Leave for a whole new world. He told her they could be happy together on this new world. It had a strange name. A name Xuelan had never heard before: Luanyuan.

  It was a natural world, he had told her. Far from the cruel people who had tormented them back on Moyang. Here they would all be able to practice their Music, to work on becoming better Players in the Orchestra.

  Xuelan didn’t understand much about any of that – even when she had asked Mother and Father why people were so cruel, their answers had not made sense to her. People on Moyang didn’t hear the Music: instead they pursued Discordance. They worshipped other gods, Father had said. He told her that people who worshipped different gods couldn’t get along, but that didn’t make sense – she knew people on Moyang worshipped many different gods. Nara Enduri and Fu Lu Xing, and many others, besides. Those people seemed to get along. But Xuelan couldn’t deny the cruelty she had seen towards her family, towards others who sought to enter the Orchestra.

  But she wouldn’t need to worry about that on Luanyuan. On their new homeworld there were many people who heard the Music.

  That sounded good to Xuelan, though she had missed her old bedroom on Moyang. It wasn’t much, but it was hers. Starships seemed scary.

  But at least she had Mother and Father with her. And Xixi, too!

  So, she did what she was told. She wanted Mother and Father to be happy, so she did her best not to be a Discordant child. She did her homework and took her medication.

  And today she did it all on her own, even without anyone watching over her. Today, everyone was distracted. They were getting close to Luanyuan, Mother had told her. They had to be careful. Some bad people might try to stop them joining the other Players on the surface.

  Right now, though, Xuelan wanted to tell her parents about how hard she had worked. It was getting lonely in her room. Besides, it would make them happy to hear what a good girl she had been.

  She picked up Xixi.

  “We’re going to find Mother and Father,” she declared to them. Xixi’s eyes stared back impassively, their soft limbs hanging over her arms.

  No arguments from Xixi!

  She went to her door and pressed a button on the panel. It slid open. Outside the corridor was empty. The windows were dark. She could see no stars outside when they were making the Jump. In truth, the corridor was a little creepy. But Mother and Father were never far on this small starship. Glancing around nervously, her and Xixi set out to find them.

  She stopped at the entrance to the lounge. Sometimes Mother and Father practiced their Music in there. Not today, though she could see their Instruments.

  She continued on.

  She reached the front of the starship. The door wouldn’t open for her, so she pressed the button beside it.

  “Hello?” she said, unsure.

  A moment of pause. “Xuelan? You should be studying.”

  “I’ve done lots of study, Mother.”

  Another pause.

  Then the door opened.

  Beyond were Mother and Father and Captain Wen and Mrs Wen. They all looked very busy and serious. Mother had walked over to the door as Xuelan stepped tentatively inside.

  “Have you finished today’s programs?” asked Mother.

  Xuelan nodded enthusiastically.

  “Yep,” she answered, “Xixi saw me. I did them all.”

  Mother smiled, glancing back at the others. Then she returned her gaze to Xuelan.

  “We are very busy at the moment,” she said.

  “Because we’re almost at Luanyuan?” asked Xuelan.

  “That’s right.”

  “Are the bad people here?”

  Mother shook her head. “We don’t know,” she said. “But we have to be careful. Maybe you should go back to your room for now. We’ll come and get you when we know it’s safe for us to land on Luanyuan.”

  “But I’ve been in my room all day!” protested Xuelan. “I’m bored.”

  Her Father turned. “Do not be Discordant,” he snapped. Then something else seemingly occurred to him, “Have you taken your medication?”

  “I have, Father!” she said. “I was good. I am not being Discordant.”

  He sighed, about to speak again, when Mother cut him off. “Dear, everyone needs to concentrate. We can talk plenty on Luanyuan. You won’t ever be lonely there.”

  Xuelan nodded. “Okay, Mother,” she said.

  “Have you checked on the bees?” Mother asked.

  The bees!

  Oh no! I was so busy with my programs; I forgot to check on the bees.

  Truth be told, the hive mostly looked after itself, but Mother had told her at the start of the trip that it was her job to look after the bees, and Xuelan took the job very seriously.

  “I will go make sure they’re alright,” said Xuelan.

  “That’s a good girl,” said Mother.

  With that, she ushered Xuelan out into the corridor and the door slid shut.

  Alone again.

  She dutifully made her way back down the ship. She tried her best not to be grumpy with Mother and Father. To have kind thoughts. They did their best.

  Entering another room, the hive revealed itself. The bees were buzzing about it industriously. Working. Always working. Never Discordant.

  I bet the bees are never lonely, thought Xuelan.

  The bees looked fine.

  They always were.

  With nothing else for it, Xuelan pulled up a seat and sat, watching the bees, Xixi in her lap. Despite her mood – which had turned quickly from pride to disappointment – the movements of the fuzzy insects were mesmerising. She liked the little dances they did on flowers when collecting pollen. When she watched them flying about, it seemed to her that there were patterns in their flight. Patterns only she could see.

  But then again, there were many things that only she could see. That’s what Father told her. He said no one else could see Xixi talk. He said she was too old to carry Xixi around, like a small child. It was true, others her age on Moyang didn’t have any such toys. But she was not like those other kids, and Xixi was no mere toy.

  It wasn’t just Xixi who talked to her either.

  The night before they had left Moyang, she had been grumpy. She had allowed her emotions to become Discordant. Storming out of the house and yelling at Mother and Father, she had found herself sitting hidden behind the stand of sassafras trees at the edge of the garden, her knees pulled up to her chest, her arms wrapped around them. She had dearly wished she had brought Xixi with her, but she had left in such a huff that this thought only occurred afterwards, when she had time to calm down.

  She sniffled, wiping away angry tears as she sat. She didn’t want to leave Moyang, leave behind everything she knew. Even the thought of never seeing these sassafras trees again troubled her greatly. They were nothing special, but they were so achingly familiar that it seemed somehow wrong for her never to see them again.

  Some part of her knew she was being unreasonable. Some part knew she had allowed Discord to creep in. But right in that moment she didn’t much care. Why couldn’t Mother and Father just stand up to the bad people? Wasn’t that what you were meant to do with bullies?

  It was as she was having these thoughts that the black cat had emerged from the nearby bushes, quietly padding towards her. She didn’t notice it at first, but it came to a halt in front of her, raising its amber gaze to meet hers. She wiped away the tears, blinking as she looked at the creature. Such a cute cat. And someone had put a little bowtie on it!

  She smiled.

  “Hello,” she said.

  To her surprise, the cat replied. “Hello, Mei Xuelan.”

  Had she forgotten to take her medication in her fit of pique?

  “You can talk,” said Xuelan.

  “I can.”

  “Are you real?”

  “To the best of my knowledge.”

  “Father says I see and hear things that aren’t real.”

  “Maybe you just have better eyes and ears,” said the cat.

  “Do you think so?” she asked.

  Did cats shrug? It appeared this one did.

  But he added more.

  “It can be hard to be different,” said the cat. “But it is usually for a reason that some of us carry such burdens. You are important, Mei Xuelan.”

  “But I’m no one,” she protested. “I can’t even choose which planet I live on.”

  “You don’t want to go to Luanyuan?”

  She shook her head vigorously. Then something occurred to her. “Wait, how do you know about Luanyuan?”’

  “How do I know your name?” said the cat.

  “Yeah!” said Xuelan. “How do you?”

  “I know a lot,” said the cat. “It’s what makes me different.”

  She thought about that. Knowing a lot of things would be useful. Life was easier when you knew things. But seeing things? Hearing things? No one ever listened when she told them about those things. Everyone – Father, Mother, everyone – just told her they weren’t real.

  “I’m not different in a good way,” said Xuelan.

  “It may be hard to see now,” said the cat, “But there will come a day when the things you do will be very important to a great many people.”

  “Oh,” she said.

  That actually sounded a little bit scary. But maybe that was good. Becoming a Player in the Orchestra was all about helping others. Working together. So scary or not, it must be a good thing.

  She felt a little bit happier.

  “Do I need to do something?” she asked.

  The cat tilted his head to one side. “You need to go to Luanyuan.”

  She sighed, wiping away more tears. “I know,” she said, gazing down at her knees. “But I’m scared.”

  “Of course you are,” said the cat. “But that’s to be expected. Leaving the only home you know is scary. But that doesn’t make it a bad thing to do, does it? Where would the Cosmos be if no one ever did anything that scared them?”

  She thought about that too. She guessed he was right.

  “I’m going to go back to Mother and Father,” she said. “Do you want to come and meet them? Oh, and Xixi, too?”

  “I’m sorry, Xuelan,” said the cat. “I can’t stay much longer. But it was nice meeting you. Remember what I said.”

  “I will,” she said.

  Before her eyes, he dissolved into nothingness.

  Her shoulders slumped a little.

  Does that mean he wasn’t real after all?

  Real or not, though, she was sure his words had been wise. She rose to her feet trudged back home.

  Remembering this conversation, she thought back to that cat, wondered where he was now. He had seemed nice. It was too bad he couldn’t stay longer.

  One thing that had solidified itself in her mind since then, though, was that she was sure he had been real. Somehow her conversation with him had been different, even to the conversations she had with Xixi. She was ever surer of it. This thought pleased her. It strengthened her resolve to be a good girl and try not to cause trouble for Mother and Father on this trip to Luanyuan.

  She held up Xixi and looked into their blank eyes.

  “At least you’re with me,” she said.

  They were silent.

  That was okay. She’d had her medication not long ago. It was to be expected that Xixi would be less talkative.

  She turned to the bees.

  Still buzzing, still working.

  Then everything shook.

  Just for a moment.

  Xuelan sprung to her feet and looked around. A few things had fallen down. The bees were now buzzing about angrily, their routine disturbed.

  “What was that, Xixi?” she asked.

  Her eyes continued to scan the room. But nothing in that room revealed the cause of that sudden tremor. Slowly, cautiously, she went to sit down, still eyeing her surrounds suspiciously.

  But no sooner had she sat, than it happened again, this time much more violently. Her chair went out from under her and she went sprawling to the floor, hitting her head painfully. She let out a sharp cry and her hand shot to the place her head had struck the floor.

  Xixi lay crumpled a short distance away.

  She reached out and grabbed them, hugging them to her chest and kissing their head tenderly.

  “Sorry, Xixi,” she said. “I didn’t mean to drop you.”

  Another smaller tremor went through the ship.

  Xuelan leapt to her feet, ignoring the pain in her head and a new pain she was just noticing now in her right elbow. Something bad was happening. Maybe Mother and Father needed help.

  She paused.

  Mother had told her not to distract them.

  Maybe this was all just part of the normal process of landing on Luanyuan.

  Another violent shake.

  No, she decided. We’re going to see them.

  She took a deep breath and hugged Xixi tightly to her chest.

  Be brave, Xuelan, she told herself.

  With that she left the room and headed to the front of the ship. She had to brace herself as more tremors shook the vessel, but she managed to stay on her feet, bracing against the wall as necessary, but always holding onto Xixi with one hand.

  She reached the door to the cockpit and pressed the button once more to gain entrance.

  The door opened.

  “What’s happening, Mother?” she asked. “Is it the bad people, tyring to stop us getting to Luanyuan?”

  “We can’t talk now, Xuelan,” replied her Mother. “Just go to your room. It’ll be safe there.”

  In front of Mother, Captain Wen, Father and Mrs Wen were talking.

  “Where’s it gone?” asked Mrs Wen.

  “I’ve lost sight of it,” growled Captain Wen, his eyes alternating between his instruments, and the glass windows that looked out into the Cosmos.

  “We should keep heading for Luanyuan,” insisted Father. “It’s not like we can fight it, anyway.”

  The ship shuddered again.

  “There it is!” shouted Mrs Wen, pointing at one of the rear viewfinders.

  From where she was, Xuelan saw something strange move quickly across the display. They must have disengaged the Jump Drive, because it was illuminated by bright sunlight (Luanyuan’s sun?). It appeared to be long and covered in what looked to be almost feathery wings. It moved swiftly, but gracefully and appeared to be in many different covers.

  “What is that?” she asked.

  “Never mind,” insisted Mother, quietly, her own eyes scanning the displays and not looking Xuelan’s way.

  The ship shook again, this time more violently than ever before. Xuelan barely managed to avoid falling over. Captain Wen was thrown from his seat. Groaning, he pulled his way back up.

  Then a strange sound rang out through the cockpit. It sounded like a high choral note and bells and chimes and harp strings all at once, seemingly coming from every direction simultaneously. It was over after barely a second had passed.

  “What was that!?” yelled father.

  “There’s no way it came from that thing,” yelled Captain Wen, “We’re deep in the vacuum.”

  “Well, where else did it—” Mrs Wen never finished.

  The ship began shaking steadily, like an earthquake. The sound started up again, rising and falling. Its components were musical – choirs and bells – but it had no melody, nothing else recognisably musical. It simply rose and fell in volume in a repeating sine wave.

  Before her eyes, Mother gripped her head, groaning in pain. Xuelan could feel a growing pain in her own head as the sound continued, unabated. She ran to kneel in front of Mother, keeping her balance, even among the shaking. Looking up at Mother’s visage, she saw a little trickle of blood running from her right nostril.

  “Mother!” she yelled. “Mother, are you okay?”

  Before Mother could reply, the ship suddenly lurched hard, outside the pattern of the shaking. In a moment they were spinning. The force of the spin flung everything and everyone towards the front of the cockpit.

  Something cushioned Xuelan’s horizontal fall, but it made an exclamation of pain when it did so. It took her a moment to realise she had fallen against Mrs Wen, who had it turn struck the glass at the cockpit’s front. The woman gave another groan then fell silent and limp, but for the force pressing her hard against the glass. Xuelan saw red liquid sprayed across the glass.

  All the time the strange, alien music continued to sound. And now everything was becoming suffused with golden light. As Xuelan watched, through the glistening droplets of Mrs Wen’s blood – clinging to the glass – she saw a massive rainbow ribbon swim through the vacuum of space just beyond. She saw now, that though its wings had appeared birdlike at first, the ‘feathers’ were almost more akin to those on the antennae of a moth and its body – this was surely a living thing – was covered in chitinous plates, each reflecting the starlight in myriad spectra, the patterns that moved across them as the creature itself swam through the void being like those that appeared atop an oil slick. And wherever it went, it left a swirling cloud of golden dust that was illuminated not by the starlight, but by its own inherent light.

  It was gone in an instant, the ship spinning away from it. For a moment the sun shone into the cockpit, then once again the vista was the inky depths of space, the stars becoming tiny streaks of light as the spin picked up momentum. A flash of that many-coloured form again. Sun. Black.

  Inside, the golden light continued to build in luminosity, and as it did so, so too did the arcane song rise in volume and pitch, the voices of that inhuman choir becoming piercing. Whether it was the song or the centrifugal force, Xuelan did not know, but her vision began to dim, even as the golden aura intensified around her.

  The last thing she saw was Xixi, pressed beneath herself and Mrs Wen’s unmoving body.

  Xixi looked up at her.

  “Don’t worry, Xuelan,” they said, “we’ll be on Luanyuan soon. Then you won’t be lonely.”

  Darkness enveloped her.