Chapter XVII – The Bright Lights Will Swallow You Whole

Assistant Professor Liang Zheng sighed as she watched the students gather their things and file out of the lecture hall. She had insisted on in-person classes this semester, instead of the remote lecturers that were more common across the university, but it was only week three of the semester and she was already feeling worn down by the bored faces, the distracted activity, and the judgemental gazes that she saw when she looked out into the rows of seats. She sighed.

You only need to get through to one student and your time has been worthwhile.

She checked inside her bag to ensure everything she needed was there. All seemed to be in place.

The lecture hall was almost empty now, though she noticed in passing that one student hadn’t moved and was continuing to sit and stare toward the front. Toward Liang herself. They were not someone Liang recognised.

The student appeared a little older than most – it was a first-year course, so most students were still teenagers, barely out of high school. This student was different – she looked to be in her late twenties, tall and pretty, with an athletic build and wry, knowing smile. She had an unnervingly intense gaze; eyes that sparkled with a mischievous light.

Liang looked away, checking the contents of her bag once more, even though she knew everything was accounted for. She felt her pulse quicken slightly. Taking a deep breath, she left the lecture podium, stumbling slightly as she stepped down off the raised dais, making for the door to the lecture hall. She cast a fleeting glance back. The student – alone now, in the vast hall – was still sitting there, still gazing towards Liang, her chin resting on the back of one hand, that grin still fixed on her face.

Liang left the hall.

Something about that one student unsettled her, but she told herself that she was just feeling sensitive after the lecture, projecting her insecurities. Just another student. If anything, it was good that she was interested, engaged. That was rare enough.

You only need to reach one of them. Maybe she’s that one.

Liang didn’t have far to go: the university itself provided accommodation for the teaching and research staff adjacent to the campus. As such, she walked to and from work.

The sun was setting as she set out, the lights of the city beyond were already coming on. Students wandered around, basking in the warm and clear night. She noticed a few couples, walking hand in hand or with their arms around each other.

Oh, to be young, she thought to herself, watching those kids – in love and with their whole futures ahead of them.

She reminded herself that at thirty-nine she still had the bulk of her own life ahead of her, but somehow it felt as if all the key inflection points were behind her. Maybe she’d get tenure one day. Maybe not. But there had once been a time when she’d dreamt of that great moment that she’d make a breakthrough in the configurations of spatial geometry, or energy-efficient negative mass conversion. She’d be famous throughout the Empire. Now tenure was her loftiest dream. Pretty soon she wondered whether she might just be satisfied if her staff accommodation was renewed.

One couple passed her by and her eyes lingered on them, until it would have been too obvious if she’d turned her head to keep watching. One of them said something and they both laughed, strolling through the mild evening, hand-in-hand.

It’s not like I ever had that when I was a student, she thought.

Still, at least back then it felt like it could happen one day. And she didn’t feel lonely back then – back then she could focus on her dreams. When she was famous and respected and wealthy: then she’d have no trouble finding a girlfriend.

But now she had no dreams, no girlfriend, no fame, no riches.

It could be worse.

It could be better.

She reached her building and rode the lift up. Her neighbour, a researcher in the artificial resonance studies department, got in after her. She gave him a smile of greeting.

“Liang Zheng,” he said, “How are you?”

“I’m fine,” she said. “Um, how are you?”

“Good, good!” he said cheerfully. “Had an inquiry from a private sector manufacturer. With some luck our team might land a research partnership contract.”

“Oh?” said Liang. “What, ah, what sort of contract?”

“Developing special ARCs – oh, that’s artificial resonance cores – for a planet with a lot of serious Starflow anomalies. Never heard of the planet myself – somewhere called… Yarkan, I think it was.”

Liang shrugged and shook her head. “Never heard of it…” she went silent, then added, “Um, good about the contract though.”

“Well, we haven’t got it in the bag yet, and even if we get that in place, we’d still need Resonance Bureau approval to proceed… if we’d actually get that is anyone’s guess,” said the other academic.

“Bureaucracy, huh?” said Liang. The doors of the elevator opened. “Um, this is my floor.”

He gave a little laugh. “It’s mine too. We’re neighbours, remember?”

“Oh, haha, yes of course,” she said, laughing awkwardly.

She couldn’t think of anything else to say as they walked the rest of the way along the dimly lit hallway. She got to her door and opened it. She gave him a little wave.

“Have a nice night,” he said, waving back. She smiled and nodded and he entered his own front door.

“You too!” she called out, but it was probably too late. She heard his door close as she said it.

Once she got inside, she took her bag through to her room. She took out her lunchbox, taking it to the kitchen, placing it in the dishwasher. Returning to her bedroom she changed into her exercise clothes and set to running on the treadmill. Once she’d done her standard session, she showered and changed into her pyjamas then fixed herself some instant noodles.

Sitting herself on the couch she called her mother, placing the tablet on speaker as she tackled the noodles. It was the same conversation they had every night.

“Bye, mum,” said Liang eventually.

“Bye, dear,” said her mother.

Liang finished her noodles and placed the cup and the chopsticks on the table then pulled up the novel she was presently reading, putting on some music. She had just settled in when her doorbell rang.

Strange.

It didn’t normally ring.

Ever.

She looked in the direction of the door a moment, blinking. Then the bell rang again. Putting her tablet aside, she slid her feet into her slippers and headed to the bedroom to find a robe to throw over her pyjamas. The bell rang again.

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” she said.

She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror as she headed towards the door. Her hair was still slightly damp from her shower and was lank and messy. She tried to straighten it a little with her fingers. Tired eyes gazed back at her from behind glasses that even she had to admit were probably too large.

She headed to the door.

She opened it.

“Hello,” said the strange student from earlier.

“Oh… um… I have office hours at—”

“I’m sorry to disturb your evening, Professor,” the student interrupted her.

“Oh, it’s just Assistant Professor,” said Liang. “Um…”

“I know this is a little inappropriate, but please, I’d only need a little of your time,” said the student. “I’d be so grateful if you could help me.”

Liang didn’t know what to do. The student’s words sounded humble, but her expression had a confidence to it – confidence bordering on arrogance.

The student peered behind Liang. “I’m not interrupting anything, am I? There’s no one else here?”

Liang shook her head.

“It’ll be quick,” said the student. “I promise. Then I’ll be out of your hair.”

Before Liang could reply the student entered, walking past her.

“Oh… okay….” said Liang, quietly. She closed the door behind the student and turned to follow her inside.

The student paused a moment, looking at the picture of Liang’s mother on the wall before proceeding to seat herself on the lounge, crossing one leg over the other.

“Can I, um, get you anything? Tea or…?”

“Do you have whiskey?”

Liang shook her head. “Just tea. And water.”

“I’ll be okay,” said the student.

Liang nodded.

“Please, take a seat,” said the student, patting the couch next to her. Liang took a seat, but at the far end of the couch. She rubbed her hands together in a handwashing motion after straightening up her glasses.

“Warm tonight, isn’t it?” said the student. She removed her leather jacket and hung it over the back of the couch. Underneath she was had an off-shoulder black dress. Liang glanced at her legs. She was wearing knee high, high-heeled boots. The dress was short and an expanse of thigh showed between the boots and its hem.

Liang gulped.

“Sorry, but I’m not sure I know your name,” said Liang. “You’re in my Introduction to Spatial Geometries class, yes?”

The student smiled. “Truth be told, I only sat in on it this afternoon.”

“Oh,” said Liang, “I guess that’s why I didn’t recognise you.”

The student’s smile grew wider. “I hope you don’t mind,” she said.

“Oh no… that’s okay. Were you thinking about taking the course next semester?”

The student took her head. “No. Truth be told, it’s all a bit beyond me. Never had much of a brain for science, I’m afraid.”

“Oh.”

The student unfolded her legs and moved a little closer, shuffling along the couch. “But you asked my name. I’m Zhen Yan,” she said, putting a hand to her chest. Liang’s eyes followed the hand, noting the low cut of the dress. She averted her gaze quickly, gulping again.

“I… I see,” said Liang. “Pleased to meet you. How can I help?”

She gazed out the window, where the lights of Shangxia City twinkled.

Don’t be inappropriate, she told herself.

“I was hoping you could tell me if something was possible,” said Zhen Yan.

“Maybe… what… what is it?”

“I’ll preface this by pointing out that I don’t have the first clue about this sort of thing,” said Zhen Yan, “But in theory, is it possible to tell where a vessel has jumped to by looking at some sort of… signature or something, left behind at the time of the jump?”

Liang looked back at the younger woman. It was possible, and something about Zhen Yan’s tone and facial expression suggested she already knew this.

What was this all about?

“It’s possible,” said Liang. “As long as good data was recorded at the moment of jump and we know things like the mass of the ship, its orientation at the moment of the jump… a few other pieces of information…” she trailed off, not sure what exactly Zhen Yan was wanting to know.

Zhen Yan half-turned to her jacket and pulled a tablet out of one of its pockets. “If I had some data… could you maybe look over it and tell me if it was sufficient to make the necessary calculations or whatever?”

“Um,” said Liang, but she took the tablet that was handed to her nonetheless.

She tapped through the file that was open on the screen. It was data collected by the Bureau of Astrogation. A second file, from the Bureau of Customs, included the docking location and specs of a ship called the Amrita that had departed from Shangxia’s Orbital Ring about a week ago.

How does she have these files? wondered Liang. She looked up at Zhen Yan, who was leaning in to look at the tablet’s screen. Was she with the government? Surely not. This would be a highly unorthodox way to seek out Liang’s expertise. That dress certainly didn’t look official.

“Will this be enough?” asked Zhen Yan.

“It…” Liang looked more closely at the flight data recorded before the Amrita’s jump. She flipped back to the ship’s specs in the Customs doc. She nodded slowly. “Everything needed is here.”

“Then could you… do the calculations for me?” asked Zhen Yan.

Liang looked the other woman in the eyes. “I—I’d need approval… I can’t just…”

Zhen Yan gave a shuddering sigh and clenched her fists together in her lap. Her expression changed completely, to one of concern. “It’s just…” she began. She now looked towards Liang and only now did it become apparent that her eyes were watering. “Well, I’m worried about my mother. You see she’s met this man. He’s much younger than she is, but I’m concerned that he is trying to scam her… and now they’ve gone on a holiday, but I’m not sure where they’ve gone and… and… it’s… I’m just so worried, you know?”

Liang took to wringing her hands as she contemplated what Zhen Yan was saying. She glanced at the picture of her own mother. “It’s just… well, there are ethical… and privacy concerns about giving out this kind of information…”

Zhen Yan nodded sadly. “I understand,” she said, dejectedly. “Look, I really am sorry for disturbing you with this. I shouldn’t have done that. It’s just I’m so worried, and I guess I’m pretty much willing to do… anything,” she said, placing one hand on Liang’s shoulder and looking into her eyes.

Liang flinched at the other woman’s touch.

She looked away once more, unable to hold Zhen Yan’s intense gaze, especially with the glistening unshed tears sitting there, gleaming in the apartment’s soft light.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

Zhen Yan’s fingers softly squeezed her shoulder then relaxed again.

Liang felt a frisson run through her. She looked back again, not quite meeting Zhen Yan’s gaze. “I could do it… but please, no one can know I’m the one who gave you the information. I think that this data… it’s confidential government information and I could… I’m hoping for tenure and, if I—”

“Shhh,” said Zhen Yan. “I know. I’ll make sure nobody knows you help me. I’m not about to betray your act of kindness.”

Liang nodded quickly and nervously. “It could take a little while. It’s not hard with all this data and the right programs, but it does involve a huge amount of computation, so…”

“That’s okay,” said Zhen Yan. “I’ll give you my details so you can send me what you find out.”

With that Zhen Yan rose from the couch. She stepped in front of Liang and placed two fingers under Liang’s chin, slowly lifting her head. The tears were gone and the bright, gleaming eyes from earlier were back, gazing intensely into Liang’s own eyes.

“Truly,” said Zhen Yan. “Thank you.”

She bent and gave Liang a kiss on the forehead then grabbed her jacket, heading for the door. She stopped by a small shelving unit, picking up a figure off it and inspecting it. Turning back towards Liang she held up the figure. “You like foxes?”

“I think they’re cute,” said Liang, still unable to come to terms with what had happened a moment earlier.

Zhen Yan replaced the fox figure on the shelf. “Cute, huh?” said Zhen Yan. “You have good taste.”

For just a split-second Liang thought she saw a pair of fox ears sprout from Zhen Yan’s head, but she blinked and they were gone again.

You’re imagining things, she thought to herself.

Zhen Yan opened the door, gave a little wave, then was gone.

The next day Tavian, Harry and Kal found the spot to which Ostara had directed them. It was a shady patch among the poplars, close to the shores of the lake. The trees’ leaves were an autumnal gold, but were yet to fall. Tavian had assumed, judging by the weather in Yengishahr that it was the current northern winter on Yarkan, but now they were somewhere with trees he realised it was in fact only autumn. That being the case, the thought of actual winter in Yengishahr was genuinely frightening.

Here though, the days were warm (if not the nights) and this spot among the poplars was as pleasant a site as any for a meeting. It certainly had a distinctly different vibe than last night when he’d wandered among these very same trees.

The “girls” – as Harry referred to them – were already seated on an array of rugs spread out on the ground.

“Where did these come from?” asked Tavian, pointing at the rugs as he approached.

“One of the company workers I spoke with yesterday had a brother who was a carpet merchant, so I purchased some,” said Ostara.

“How much did all these cost?” asked Tavian, looking at the extensive array of rugs.

“About sixty thousand taels,” said Ostara, as if that was a perfectly normal amount to spend on a whim on carpets.

“Not worried about them getting ruined out here?” asked Tavian.

Ostara shrugged. “A little sand won’t hurt them, that’s easy to get out. As long as no one spills any food or drinks on them.”

Tavian noticed as she said this, that Mu had several bowls of fruits and nuts in front of her, as well as a steaming pot and some cups on a tray. Nova meanwhile was drinking a can of something and scoffing yoghurt balls.

Tavian and Harry found spots and sat down, so that the group was in an approximate circle. Kal took up a position just outside the circle, continuing to stand and leaning against the trunk of a tree.

“Well,” said Ostara. “Now we’re all here. Let’s go over everything we know after day one at Karbaliq.”

“Roughly the same amount that we knew before day one,” remarked Nova.

“Perhaps, but now we’re here and we know what to expect,” said Ostara. “At any rate, the facts we know are: someone was murdered and the suspect is Toghrul Yarghunoghul. Toghrul’s brother is Taghay Yarghonoghul, the president of the company developing this site for tourists. Toghrul headed up an informal group of activists – mostly from local tribes – opposing the development, on a variety of grounds – not least that it is a sacred site.”

“We also know no one wants to talk about what happened,” said Harry.

“Yes, we do. And even knowing that is potentially useful,” said Ostara.

“Yeah, we had some thoughts about that last night,” said Tavian.

“We’ll hear them in a moment,” said Ostara. “I think it’s also important we keep in mind the key facts of the murder itself. The victim was an overseer working on the development for the Yarghun Company. We don’t know of any witnesses to the murder, but according to the documents Ulduz gave us, company security responded to gunshots and found Toghrul near to the scene. The authorities subsequently took him into custody and now he’s been formally charged.”

“The evidence doesn’t seem very extensive, though,” said Mu.

“No,” agreed Ostara.

“No footage, no witnesses, no murder weapon,” said Kal. “Sounds like a stitch up to me.”

“I don’t understand why they’d even charge him with so little evidence,” said Mu.

“I don’t mean to be rude, Mu,” said Mingxia, “But I don’t think you understand how justice is done out here, beyond the Upper Banner Worlds. If this Taghay guy wants Toghrul to be guilty and he’s rich and he’s friends with the Governor, then Toghrul will be guilty. It was the same on Shangxia – whoever my dear master wanted to be guilty, the courts found them guilty.”

Mu looked like she wanted to protest the accusation of naïveté, but after opening her mouth and saying nothing, she fell silent again.

“At any rate,” said Ostara, “I think we should be careful about jumping to conclusions. Especially since we don’t know much about Taghay himself, apart from a little publicly available information and what Ulduz has told us.”

“We probably know even less than that about Toghrul,” said Tavian.

“That’s true, though we’re unlikely to be able to speak to him anytime soon,” said Ostara. “Taghay on the other hand, we can probably get in touch with. We were having a discussion in the tent last night, and we are thinking that myself, Mingxia, Seraphina, and Nova will return to Yengishahr. I will speak to Taghay, and perhaps have further discussions with Ulduz,” said Ostara.

“And I will go back to the Amrita,” declared Nova, “I’m gonna see if I can’t have a poke around in the company files.”

“Provided you don’t get caught – remember our employer is also a director of the company,” said Ostara.

“I never get caught,” said Nova.

“What about the time you got my credentials flagged by Customs,” said Mu.

Nova narrowed her eyes in Mu’s direction. “That was… different.” She continued glaring as she shovelled more yoghurt balls into her mouth.

“I’m going back to Amrita too,” said Seraphina, then added, with a contemptuous look on her usually impassive face, “I don’t like sand. It’s coarse and rough and irritating and it gets everywhere.”

Tavian only now noticed that Seraphina was not – as had at first appeared to be the case – sitting on the rug, but was rather hovering just above it.

It took another moment for what Ostara had said before to properly sink in. He looked Mingxia’s way. “You’re going back?”

She looked conflicted a moment, then just gave a curt nod by way of response.

“If some of you are going back to the Amrita, can you maybe ask the Captain if he maybe just knows the answer to this whole mystery?” said Harry. “Actually, Mu, what about your foresight? Can’t you just save us some time?”

Mu shook her head. “The First Emperor’s Theophany is still disrupting the Starflow around this whole planet. Anytime I attempt to look forward, there’s no telling what I’ll see, but it’s never what I’m looking for.”

“Handy,” muttered Harry, then he added, “But don’t feel bad about it. I can’t see the future either.”

“Useless bastard,” said Nova with a laugh.

Ostara quietly cleared her throat, and everyone looked back her way. “I believe we’re going to need to get creative in order to find the answers we’re looking for. Provided she isn’t going to get caught, Nova can look for evidence in the company files. I’ll hear Taghay’s side of things. And those of you staying here can think about who we might not yet have spoken to.”

“The company workers, sure aren’t going to tell us anything,” said Harry.

“Tavian, you said you three were talking last night?” asked Ostara.

“Well, Kal pointed out that based on what Ulduz said, it sounds like Taghay was way too quick to accept that Toghrul was guilty. Maybe we’re underestimating how much bad blood there is between the brothers, but Ulduz at least seems to think there’s some hope for reconciliation. It certainly seems possible that Taghay knows more than he’s letting on,” said Tavian.

“That’s highly speculative, but it could be something to investigate further. I will be able to get a better sense of Taghay’s mindset if I can speak with him in person,” said Ostara, diplomatically.

“You mentioned that we’re unlikely to ever get any opportunity to speak to Toghrul himself,” said Tavian.

Before he could go on, Mu seemed to pick up on his line of thinking. “Toghrul’s supporters. They’re not likely to be unbiased, but at least they’ll probably be more willing to talk than the company workers.”

“Aren’t they mainly, like, desert nomads?” asked Harry. “They’ll be beyond the protected zone.”

Mu was unperturbed. “Then that’s where we’ll have to go.”

“That sounds… unsafe,” said Harry.

“Yeah, I don’t think I’d be super-keen to go out there,” said Nova.

“People live out there,” pointed out Mu, “If they can live their whole lives out there, then we can manage a day or so.” Her words were confident, but Tavian could hear the uncertainty in her voice. He had seen how she’d been on the flight here and suspected she was going through more than she was letting on.

“Mu’s right,” he said. “If that’s where we need to go, that’s where we’ll go.”

She gave him a look that seemed almost surprised. Her expression became more neutral a moment later. “Though I’m not sure how many of the tribespeople will want to speak to me. I don’t think the Aixin are popular here… for obvious reasons.”

“Have you considered a change of outfit?” asked Harry. “I know that—” here he indicated what Mu was wearing, “—is probably what you’re most comfortable in, but if we got you in some local clothes, or something with a bit more of a generic Shang look, no one would know you’re Aixin. I’m willing to bet desert nomads aren’t going to recognise an Aixin accent, and appearance-wise you could pass as Shang. We could even give you a Shang name – you could be a Zhang if you like. I’d say you’re just about pretty enough to pass as my sister.”

“Thanks,” said Mu, her tone sarcastic. She then adopted a more sombre tone, “But I kinda feel like maybe I shouldn’t hide from it. My ancestors did that,” she said, here pointing towards the looming ruins.

“You didn’t though,” said Ostara. Mu gave her a weak smile.

“Just a suggestion,” said Harry with a shrug.

“Anyway,” said Tavian. “We’ll find a way to talk to the nomads and then we’ll take it from there, depending on what we find out.”

“Well,” said Harry, “I wouldn’t say it’s a plan, but it’s definitely a plan for a plan.”

“My favourite,” said Tavian.

“Well, that’s kinda settled, right?” said Nova. “Anyone want a yoghurt ball?”

“Sure,” said Tavian, reaching out to grab one from her.

He glanced Mingxia’s way again, but she looked away.

This is getting complicated.

As everyone was dispersing, Tavian waited around. He caught Mingxia’s attention.

“Care for a walk?” he said, nodding in the direction of the lake.

She looked at him for a moment, her mind seemingly far away, then the focus returned. “Sure.”

As the rest of the group headed back towards the tents, they made their way to the lake. The sun was quite high in the sky now and the day was getting appreciably warmer. There was little breeze. Looking away from the lake, the ruins of Karbaliq appeared especially stark, pure black stone against pure blue sky. It was a colour palette with an almost uncanny lack of differentiation.

“You sure you want to head back to Yengishahr?” said Tavian, breaking the silence that had formed between them as they walked.

Mingxia looked out across the lake. She fiddled with her cloak. “Yes,’ she said at length.

Tavian gave her a moment to elaborate, but nothing came. “Okay,” he said.

She turned to face him now. “I’ve just been doing some thinking since we left Yengishahr.”

“Okay.”

“I, um…” she sighed. “Just over a week ago, I was in the West Gate Yamen. It hasn’t even been two weeks since we met. A lot has happened in that time. And before all that, I’ve basically lived my life as a prisoner….”

Tavian didn’t say anything, giving her time to collect her thoughts.

“Do you know how I found my way to the Governor?”

Tavian shook his head. In the time they’d spent together it was a story she’d never opted to tell him, and one he hadn’t asked about.

“I grew up in a small village a long way from anywhere, but my Dad used to show me holodramas and I looked at the glamorous people in them, living the high life and, well, I looked around me… everything was so slow, so boring. I wanted that life. I dunno… maybe that was stupid of me, maybe it was shallow. But it’s what I wanted and so I borrowed money from my parents and when I was just seventeen, I set out for the city. Mum didn’t want me to go. I remember she said, “The bright lights will swallow you whole.” It was such and odd way of putting it, that it’s always stuck with me. I just thought she was being a country bumpkin, I guess, nervous about what she didn’t understand. I was gonna make it big. And stars bless her, she let me go… I guess as scared as she was, she believed in my dreams too,” said Mingxia.

Tavian still maintained his silence, but was listening attentively.

“I should have listened to her. But I didn’t. I stayed with some distant relatives I’d never met before at first. I auditioned for roles, I managed to pay for acting classes, but pretty soon I found I was spending so much time working other jobs that I had no time to work on my acting, no time to chase roles… I was starting to get disillusioned.

“Then I met a guy. He said he was a writer and when he talked about writing his eyes just shone. It was passion like I’d never seen before and it… I felt the passion again, just seeing it. We ended up moving in together, in a dingy rented flat above a dumpling place. It wasn’t luxurious, but it was ours and it was only temporary anyway – we were gonna make it big. He was gonna get his big debut holodrama made, and I was gonna be the leading lady.”

She gave a small, slightly bitter laugh.

“But of course it didn’t turn out that way. He got turned down time and time again, and he would obsessively rewrite his script again and again and again. And no matter what he did, he still got rejected. I had to work two jobs, because he said he had to quit his restaurant gig so he could finetune his script. Stupid me, I believed him.

“We’d always had a pretty good group of friends and we went to parties, but after a while the parties stopped. What didn’t stop was the drinking and the drugs. I wasn’t pure, but I saw what it did to him as he became more and more despondent and in the end… I wanted to no part of it anymore.

“Once he realised that I wanted out, he got a lot worse. He was possessive and he couldn’t bear the thought of me leaving him. He’d scream about how I didn’t believe in him, even though he was the only one that believed in me. He told me I was nothing without him. He didn’t ever hit me… at least not that I recall, though to be honest there were times I drunk myself into oblivion just to numb myself to everything; I couldn’t honestly say what happened on those occasions. But it was shit. It was all shit. More than anything it was just sad, just that sense of lost hope and bitterness at the Cosmos that haunted that little apartment above the dumpling shop.

“That’s when the big party happened. I don’t even remember how exactly I got there, but it was like a friend of a friend of a friend knew someone… I dunno, but anyway, I got an invite to this fancy party. I think someone was just feeling sorry for me, ‘cause they could see what was happening – at least that’s what I thought at the time, trying to rationalise why little old me would get an invite to a party like that.

“Anyway, it sure was fancy. Not just producers and directors and stuff, but none other than the Governor himself. Well, my confidence wasn’t what it used to be, but I still figured I could turn on the charm when I needed to and I thought here is my ticket out of this bullshit life. I managed to kick up a conversation and to my surprise he responded and one thing led to another…

“I didn’t realise it at first, but it didn’t take long for that bastard to show his true colours. Once he had me in his grasp, that was it. He didn’t even really bother with the pretence of pretending to support my acting career. He was a possessive, jealous man and… I was just another trophy in his cabinet to do with as he wished.”

“I’m sorry you had to go through that,” said Tavian, feeing that the words were inadequate even as he said them.

“I… I won’t go into all the details of what happened. You don’t want to hear them; I don’t want to talk about them. I think you’ve probably got a decent idea, anyway.”

Tavian gave a grim smile. “I can hazard a guess.”

“Reason I’m telling you all this is… I want you to understand this isn’t really anything to do with us. I know I was a bit of a bitch to you at first. I think you get that I was hurting. I was fragile. I hope you do… because I am being completely truthful when I say I really enjoyed everything that happened in Yengishahr. I… I regret none of it. I’m glad…”

“But…” said Tavian.

“But I can’t keep doing this. I was basically a child when I left home. Then I was just the property of one jealous man after another. I know you’re not like that. Sure—” and here she flashed a genuine, amused smile, “—you probably drink too much, but you’re not like the writer. Stars, you’ve got this infectious optimism about you. I think it’s what drew me to you. You’re definitely not like that fucking monster in the Yamen… but I think… I need some space. Space to be me. I don’t think I’ve ever had that before.”

Tavian smiled and nodded. “That’s it then?” he asked.

She shrugged. “I don’t know. I have to work things out. Maybe… maybe in the future. But I just don’t know. I gotta try and rediscover my dreams… experience hope again.”

“Yeah, I can get behind that,” he said.

“You’re taking this well,” she said. “The writer… he did not. And the next guy, well, you’ve probably got some idea about how he dealt with my rejection.”

Tavian laughed.

“Besides,” said Mingxia, “I get the feeling the next girl’s never too far away for Tavian Locke.”

Tavian was about to throw up an expression of mock outrage, but at the last moment, opted for sincerity instead. “It may have only been a few days, but I did feel something special when we were together in that hotel room.”

“Horny. It’s called horny,” said Mingxia, with a laugh. “But you don’t need to make it into more than it was. I won’t be offended. I do genuinely like you. You can be a selfish arsehole at times, but it’s not the core of who you are. If anything, it’s a disguise you put up, lest people think you’re a good guy.”

“Okay,” said Tavian. “Let’s not get too crazy with this good guy talk. And by the way – everything that went down back at the Yamen? Yeah, I don’t do that for all the girls.”

Mingxia laughed. “Pretty sure you’d be dead by now if you did.”

“Ah… you’re probably not wrong,” said Tavian. They had reached the rocky outcropping on which he saw the band playing last night. What a different situation… what different feelings. “So, what now then?”

“I’ll stick around with the Amrita crew till this whole situation gets sorted… I’ll help out however I can. But long-term? There’s no real point in me staying. Everyone else is so amazing. I’m just a failed actress… an idiot who keeps getting herself trapped in stupid situations. I’m not a Resonant or a super soldier or a tech genius or anything. I guess I’ll talk to Ostara and Apollo – I’m still not used to a talking cat being the captain, by the way—”

“It does take some getting used to,” said Tavian.

“Anyway, once the Amrita stops off at a suitable world I’ll get off and try and find my feet.”

“You’re not a burden… and you’re not an idiot,” said Tavian. “Please don’t think either of those things.”

“Thanks,” said Mingxia, “But it’s okay. You don’t need to try and protect my feelings. If nothing else everything that’s happened until now has made me pretty resilient. I’m one tough bitch.”

“That you are,” said Tavian with a laugh. “I think a lotta other people would have broken down and given up, having gone through what you have.”

“Silver linings.”

Tavian leant down and picked up a pebble from the shore. He got down low and swung his arm through a wide horizontal arc, releasing the pebble. It skipped six times then vanished below the lake’s glassy surface.

“Y’know,” he said, as he looked around for another suitable stone, “If I’d known the other morning was going to be the last time, I might have kept Ostara and everyone else waiting a bit longer.”

“Tell you what,” said Mingxia, a mischievous smile on her face, “Look me up when you get back to Yengishahr. The nights are cold.”

“That they are.”

Tavian found another suitable rock and launched it. Seven skips.

“When does Ostara want to head back?” he asked.

“I think she said we’d be leaving this afternoon… probably pretty soon,” said Mingxia. “I should probably get going actually. Not that I need to do much packing…”

“Yeah,” said Tavian, a note of melancholy creeping into his voice, “Okay.”

“By the way, when we’re gone and it’s just you boys and Mu… look after her, alright?”

“Hrm?”

“She’s having a rough time,” said Mingxia. “This planet is affecting her more than anyone else. But she won’t say anything, she won’t ask for help. Just… keep an eye out. Ask her how she’s doing… I know you wanna keep this good guy thing under wraps… but just do it for me, okay?”

“Sure, I’ll make sure she’s alright,” said Tavian.

“She’s a good girl. A little bit cool and aloof at times, but she has the weight of the Cosmos on her shoulders. And I… I owe her everything. She wasn’t just content to grab her own freedom, she fought for mine too.”

“You should tell her that sometime… if you haven’t,” said Tavian.

“Yeah,” said Mingxia, “Yeah, you’re right.”

A pause.

“I’m gonna go now.”

Tavian watched her walk away, strange emotions that he could put no label on playing about in his mind.

He decided there was nothing for it but to fetch his mandolin. He knew the perfect rocky outcrop to play it on.