Chapter XLVIII – Sweet Wine

  Hao Chendian stepped onto the terrace as the warm breeze shook the bamboo. Gentle music floated across the lotus pond, as if carried upon that breeze. Moths fluttered about the lanterns as the light slowly faded from the sky. The days were getting longer now as spring drew towards summer.

  A servant woman saw Hao, gave a shallow bow of her head, and shuffled away.

  Hao breathed in deeply, straightening his robes. His nostrils filled with a floral scent of perfume. He felt his head swirl slightly as the scent warmly hugged his brain, his senses softening, time seeming to slow slightly. Blinking slowly as he adjusted, he swayed slightly, trying to focus his mind on his purpose for being here. He looked ahead, where a few stairs led up to a pavilion, jutting out into the lotus pond. The music came from there.

  It paused for a second, a beckoning hand rising upon languid and graceful wrist.

  “Come,” said a voice laced with joy, as soft and disarming as the swirling perfume.

  Before Hao space seemed to contract. He wasn’t aware even of moving, but in a moment, he stood at the entrance to the pavilion, the lotus pond spreading out before him, the first stars of the early evening reflected in its glassy waters.

  There she sat, her robes flowing out about her, hair of black silk flowing across her shoulders and back, her long sleeves brushing against the guqin as she plucked its strings, her eyes closed.

  He did his best to focus his thoughts. Even as he did so, he saw the beast rise from its restful repose: a mastiff with a mane like a lion. As it stepped towards him, he became keenly aware of its immense size.

  The guqin player did not open her eyes, a gentle smile upon her face.

  “You wished to speak with me?” she said.

  “I’m sorry to disturb you, my lady,” said Hao, his eyes watching the immense dog as it prowled about him, sniffing at his robes.

  “I am happy for the company,” she said. “Please, join me.”

  There was space on the bench beside her, but he did not dare take that position. Instead, he stepped into the pavilion and stood with his back to the pond. Though he now faced her, he could not look directly at her, averting his eyes, though hers were closed.

  His mind felt like a boat bobbing on gentle waves.

  The dog walked away from him to stand by its master. It walked in circles a few times, before curling up on the ground and closing its eyes once more.

  “You haven’t been here before, have you Dr Hao?” she asked.

  “No, my lady,” he said.

  “Tell me, doctor, do you like my garden?” she asked.

  She had stopped playing as she spoke, and with one outstretched hand raised her fingers. He felt his head rising to look at her deep brown eyes, twinkling in the lantern light.

  “It’s… beautiful, my lady.”

  She smiled. “I’m so glad you think so. I have put much work into it. Everything you see here: I selected them myself, chose where they would be planted. I tended to them with my own hands. I cherished each and every plant as if it were my child.”

  He cast his eyes around, surveying the garden. Despite its precise order, it still had a natural and gentle feel to it. Nowhere were there hard lines, nor harsh contrast.

  Almost involuntarily he felt his eyes drawn back to hers. “You have done incredible work, my lady.”

  “Thank you, Doctor,” she said, then she tilted her head to one side, “Are you nervous?”

  “N-no, my lady,” he replied.

  She gave the smallest of laughs, daintily raising a hand to her mouth. Her eyes sparkled with mirth. “Oh please, Doctor,” she said, “I can see right through you. But I don’t want you to be nervous. I created this garden to be a place of joy and of calm.”

  She placed her upturned palm in front of her mouth, pursed her lips, and gently blew. The floral scent grew stronger, his head woozier, and he felt a hazy, idiot joy flow through him. Despite his best, feeble efforts he let out a laugh.

  She again laughed. “There we go, Doctor: isn’t that nicer?”

  “Yes, my lady,” he said, feeling his muscles slacken, as if in drunken bliss, “Thank you, my lady.”

  Her eyes left his and she surveyed her creation. “Life is a wondrous thing, isn’t it? I truly cherish it. In all its forms.”

  Hao wasn’t quite sure what to say. He nodded, though she wasn’t looking his way.

  She continued. “The moon is rising. Look how the silver light falls upon the water. Watch the lotuses.”

  He did as she instructed. When she had begun speaking there was no sign of the moon, but soon it appeared above the walls of the courtyard, its light dancing on the surface of the pond, elongated into lines parallel to the moonbeams by the wind that played upon its surface. As he continued to stare the lotuses opened wider, as if drinking in the silver light. And they sparkled, tiny glittering stars wafting through the air about them.

  “I made them,” said the Countess, “It is a beautiful thing, to live in such an age as this, is it not? One in which we need not merely perceive the beauty of life, but see too the potential of still greater beauty, and have in our hands the power to realise such beauty.”

  “We are very fortunate indeed, my lady,” said Hao, finding his voice.

  She turned back to him. There was something almost childlike in her expression now. “Right? I am so very thankful for the opportunities I’ve been given.”

  He felt mesmerised for a moment. By the scent, by the moonlight, by her radiant beauty, her effulgent joy.

  Her expression changed. “But how silly of me,” she said. “Here I am ranting away, and you came here to tell me something important, didn’t you, Doctor?”

  He took a moment to recall the purpose of his visit. “Ah… yes, my lady.”

  There was a silence between them.

  “Well, Doctor?” she said, raising an inquiring eyebrow.

  “Ah… well we have lost contact with Zhao 891 on Luanyuan… I—Chief Dai, thought that perhaps you would wish to be informed… my lady.”

  “Ah,” she said, her eyes turning to the rising moon, “Do we know what became of 891?”

  “Chief Dai believes that – based on the reports we received before losing contact – the unusual Resonance about the planet may have been as a result of the presence of a… higher being within the Orchestra.”

  “A higher being?” she asked. “A Soloist?”

  “That is the term 891 used. My lady was aware?”

  She gave a little laugh. “Just a good guess. Did 891 succumb?”

  “That was Chief Dai’s assumption.”

  “I see,” she said. “How unfortunate.”

  “Before that, he reported that the mutated plant-forms were exhibiting profound Starflow resonance, as your ladyship anticipated,” said Hao. “And also, they were developing rudimentary nervous systems.”

  “How fascinating.”

  “He also believes this… Soloist… may have begun to manipulate some of them via this Resonance.”

  “Well, that we didn’t anticipate,” said the Countess. “Though it is all useful data.”

  There was a pause. She cocked her head to one side, her eyes peering into him. He felt a frisson in his spine. He felt naked before her gaze.

  “You have more to tell me?”

  “There was something else on Luanyuan. Something which arrived while 891 was present.”

  “Something else?”

  “He said many of the convicts were beginning to exhibit… deindividuation. It began after an unmarked vessel crashed near one of the convict settlements.”

  “Deindividuation? That sounds like what we’ve observed of the Orchestra.”

  Hao shook his head. “No, my lady, this… well, Dr Zhao believed, that this was a different… entity entirely that was responsible. He said there was a very unusual being at the crash site and—”

  A light seemed to flare in the Countess’s eyes. He could almost see her mind processing this information, see the way it fired her up, filled her with unabashed enthusiasm.

  “Kleptoparasitism,” she declared.

  “Pardon me, my lady?”

  “Ah, you are unfamiliar with the term?” she said. “An organism that feeds by stealing food from another predator.”

  “I’m not sure I’m following, my lady.”

  “Well, Doctor, as you know, it was the specific Resonance properties of Nizamabad that led us to identify it as a candidate for Chaotic Garden. What I did not anticipate was that Sarcos himself might take an interest in the world – presumably for the same reasons we did. It was not merely a few cultists present, but a Soloist. But the truly extraordinary part in all this, is that, based on what you’ve told me, a second gestalt intelligence was drawn to the planet and is perhaps endeavouring to steal the minds – the prey – that the Conductor had identified. How very fascinating.”

  “Sarcos, m’lady?”

  “Oh, the Conductor,” she replied. “So, who won?”

  “Won?”

  “The Orchestra, or this other… intelligence?”

  Hao shook his head. “Based on what Zhao sent before we lost contact, we couldn’t say.”

  “Well, then, Doctor, we shall be needing to conduct some further observations of Luanyuan. Our Chaotic Garden appears to be blooming in a most peculiar way. Let Mr Dai know I will need another Zhao-Lai pair activated. Have them brought up to speed, ready for deployment. In the meantime, if you could send me all the data and communications of 891, I shall have a read.”

  “Yes, my lady.”

  “Oh, and Doctor Hao? We will need to move fast. Containment of whichever intelligence emerges victorious in their struggle will be of high importance.”

  He swallowed and nodded. His mind was feeling clearer and sharper once more. “Should we inform the Resonance Bureau or Banner authorities?”

  At this she gave a far heartier laugh. “Oh, Stars no! We don’t wan them poking around in our business. Just activate the termination protocol if it looks like on-world containment will be breached.”

  The mastiff stirred and looked around. The Countess reached down and scratched it under the chin. Seeing no threats, it lay its head back down and went back to sleep.

  “Should we commence a precautionary evacuation?”

  She gave him the closest thing to a stern and reprimanding look he’d seen from her. “Given we’re dealing with beings that can enslave minds, any evacuation would likely amount to exporting the threat. And we can’t risk tipping off these entities. No, regrettably we will have to sacrifice the planet’s population. It’s only three or four hundred thousand unless I’m mistaken. Mostly criminals. No great loss.”

  Hao hesitated. “My lady, there could be legal issues if we do not consult the board of the LPDC prior to preceding with such action, especially if they lose personnel as a result.”

  The Countess laughed once again. “Oh, not to worry. I am on good terms with the owner of the LPDC.”

  “Oh,” said Hao. “I didn’t realise.”

  She grinned mischievously, “Yes, her name is Cai Wen.”

  That caught Hao off-guard. “You are the owner, my lady?”

  “A little joke on my part, Doctor. You’ll forgive me such indulgence. I am indeed the sole owner of the LPDC.”

  “I see, my lady,” said Hao, unsure of how to respond. “Was… that all?”

  “I believe so, Doctor,” said Cai Wen. “I’ll let you know if I require anything further once I’ve read through all the documentation. But please don’t hesitate to contact me again if you have any updates.”

  He nodded. “Yes, my lady.”

  “You may go,” she said. She fixed him with a warm smile, “It was so lovely to have you visit my garden. Please come again anytime you are need of some peace. I do love to share the beauty of life as widely as I can.”

  Hao felt those words and that smile like a warm caress of his soul. He did not wish to leave, and for a moment his eyes lingered on her figure: Lady Cai Wen’s elegant form was only emphasised, silhouetted as it now was by the brilliant moonlight. He felt fortunate to have witnessed the very incarnation of beauty and grace.

  Yet, what seemed like a moment later he stood once more at the entrance to the terrace, with no memory of walking there, but the sensation of having drifted on the currents of her perfume.

  A moth fluttered by him, and he turned to carry out her orders. Departures could be such a sorrowful thing, but as long as life endured, tomorrow still held promises of joy and reunions.

  Kal gazed down at his mechanical hand, slowly opening and closing it as he stood in the corridor before the door. He let out a sigh, then reached out and tapped the panel.

  “Mr Nyx, is that you?” came Apollo’s smooth and calm voice from within.

  “Yes, Captain.”

  The door slid open. Kal stepped through. It was only dimly lit within, but Apollo’s large yellow eyes seemed to shine like lanterns. He ran a paw through his whiskers, stretched, then sprung up onto a post, looking expectantly at Kal as he wrapped his tail about his feet.

  “Captain, about your orders…” Kal began.

  “About the girl? It’s fine,” said Apollo.

  Is he angry? wondered Kal. As ever, the Captain’s feline visage was impossible to read.

  “Your orders were…”

  “I know what my orders were,” said Apollo. “But what needed to happen, happened. The girl was alive and well when you left, was she not?”

  “She was,” said Kal. “But… I’m sorry, Captain, it isn’t my place to question you. I just… I’m trying to understand why we should have been protecting that girl. She was the centrepiece of the whole Hive.”

  “She became that, yes,” said Apollo.

  “Did we fail then? Were we meant to prevent that outcome?”

  “What needed to happen, happened,” repeated Apollo. He licked one of his paws, then ran it over his head, his ears flattening then springing back up.

  Kal didn’t say anything for a moment, and Apollo fixed him with a stare.

  “You are unsatisfied with my answer?”

  “I—” began Kal, then he simply nodded, “Yes, Captain. But that’s fine. My satisfaction is not important. I am pleased that everything went according to plan.”

  “How noble, how humble,” said Apollo. “But you do yourself a disservice, Mr Nyx. Your satisfaction is important to me. It should be important to you.”

  “I am your willing spear and shield, Captain… I need not be more. You gave me a new life. For that I will forever be grateful. For me, that is enough.”

  “To survive is not to live, Mr Nyx.”

  “Yet it is more than I could have once asked for, or even hoped for.”

  Apollo didn’t directly respond to this. Instead, he looked over his shoulder, his whiskers twitching. After a moment, he turned back, his tail slowly waving.

  “You all endured great tribulations on Luanyuan,” said Apollo. “I feel responsible for that.”

  “We all agreed to this, Captain.”

  “Well, I am glad that you all endured; everyone returned alive,” said Apollo. “From what Mr Zhang tells me, a great deal of the credit for that goes to you.”

  “I do what I must. Violence is my one true talent. It is what I was born for. Luanyuan is a violent place. I was in my element.”

  “There is more to you than that, Mr Nyx. Your crewmates value you deeply. Ms Reilly, especially.”

  “She can barely look at me,” replied Kal, his tone bitter.

  “You saved her?”

  “They were going to rape her, Captain. So, I killed them. And I did it brutally. And… I enjoyed it,” said Kal. “But for Nova… I am now just the final, bloody moment of the worst experience of her life.”

  “It is natural that she would feel troubled by what she witnessed, what she endured. Time, however, heals all wounds.”

  Kal shook his head. “I once believed that. I’m not so sure I do anymore. Some wounds leave permanent scars.”

  “The Flame did not ignite in you, did it? Not once?”

  “Nova has never witnessed that,” said Kal. “I did not want her to.”

  “You see, Mr Nyx? There is more to you than violence. There is love too.”

  “My capacity for love died when Xerxes took my wife and son.”

  “That isn’t true,” said Apollo.

  Kal wasn’t so sure. But he didn’t argue with the Captain. He cleared his throat, glanced down at his feet then looked back towards the black cat.

  “I am sorry we did not fulfill your orders to protect the girl to the very end,” said Kal.

  “I do not think it was even possible for you to do so by the end. Concern yourself about it no longer, Mr Nyx. I am no general, merely a humble cat on an ageing starship. You did what you thought was best. You always too. I value that greatly. But I value you not only for that. I value your presence, your companionship, your decency, more than you could ever know. You are an asset to this crew, but you are also a friend.”

  Kal appreciated the words, but he couldn’t accept them. “Thank you, Captain.”

  “Now, if you’ll excuse me, Mr Nyx, I think I shall take a nap. You know where to find me, though. Please don’t hesitate to visit should you wish to talk some more.”

  “Of course, Captain. Goodbye.”

  “And to you, Mr Nyx. Get some rest as well.”

  Kal nodded and left the Captain’s quarters, stepping into the corridor beyond. As he walked, he passed the entrance to engineering. He could hear clanking sounds emanating from within. For a moment his hand hovered, near the panel of the door controls. Sighing he lowered his hand and headed back aft.

  Leave her be.

  Stepping into his quarters, he gazed around. Everything was as he had left it, which wasn’t to say much: his unadorned bed, perfectly made as it was every morning after he got up. The punching bag hanging from the ceiling. A table and seating for one.

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  And the small altar.

  A holographic display showed a woman wearing a long peplos, belted at the waist, smiling warmly as some presumed wind ruffled her hair. Beside her stood a boy clad in a short and simple chiton, a roguish grin upon his face, suggestive of great pride in some recent mischief.

  Two names were inscribed on the base of the projector: Eirene and Philandros.

  From a shelf, Kal took myrrh and placed it in a censer before the holographic display.

  “For you, my love,” he said, lighting the incense.

  He gazed at the two figures. They cycled through small movements. Eirene’s hand ruffled Philandros’ tousled hair, much to his chagrin. At one point he placed his hands on his hips, evoking a heroic, masculine stance, eyes turned skyward. And always the projections would reach a point where the loop was complete, and everything reset.

  “I haven’t broken my promise,” said Kal. “I have protected my people. No one else dies on my watch.”

  Eirene and Philandros smiled back at him, but were silent. The smell of the incense filled the air, the thin streamer of smoke flowing up into the air, disappearing not into the heavens, but into the vents of the Amrita’s air filtration system.

  Kal eventually stirred. He went to the fridge, taking a bottle of beer, opening it, and taking a sip. Sparing one last glance at the shrine, he headed to the bathroom. He placed the bottle down on a shelf and undressed. He took another swig as he gazed at his own reflection.

  One arm long gone, tattoos covering much of his remaining arm and chest – but very few scars for a lifetime of war. Few blades could pierce flesh born of Phaiston’s bargain. Those that did, seldom left a lasting scar. That was the sole of honour of the most wicked and accursed blades.

  He deserved more scars, he thought. Not as badges of honour; no, as reminders of his failures, of the times he had let his defences slip, let the enemy through. Instead, none of the deepest scars he bore were reflected in that mirror.

  He scowled. This reflection was a feeble indulgence. It was how Apollo had found him all those years ago, crippled by the spirals of an unproductive mind, turned in upon itself. Self-pity would not stir the dead, nor slay monsters. Only those who wielded it, would fall by it.

  Kal took another swig from his beer, then stepped into the shower. He let it run cold, bowing his head, hands pressed against the wall. The filth of Luanyuan was washed away and flowed down the drain.

  Outside the stars did not shine, the Jump had already begun.

  Water spiralled the drain.

  Mu slumped onto the barstool. Harry’s eyes fell upon her, expectant, though he said nothing.

  She slumped forward, her arms on the bar, her head lying atop them. It was not a posture worthy of a Princess.

  Good.

  “Give me something to forget,” she said.

  Harry laughed.

  “Not keen on reliving our jungle vacation?”

  She raised her head just enough to fix him with a glare, before slumping down once more.

  “Just pour.”

  “As you command, Princess,” he said.

  This time she didn’t raise her head. “Don’t be like that,” she said. “We already have one Tavian.”

  “And he’s right here,” declared a new voice.

  “Wonderful,” murmured Mu, speaking into her arm.

  “I knew you’d appreciate by presence.”

  She had every intention of launching a sharp retort his way, but nothing came to her tired mind. She slightly rolled her head to one side, allowing a single eye to cast a surreptitious look his way as he plonked himself down on the barstool beside her.

  He was as close to clean-shaven as he ever got, his facial hair – which had become increasingly bushy and unkempt on Luanyuan – was now reduced to stubble, once again showcasing his chiselled jaw.

  Why must a man so uncouth be blessed by the Stars with such looks?

  Still, she couldn’t feel too harshly toward him. He had done well by her on Luanyuan. Perhaps she would try to be nicer.

  You’ve tried that before. And things start to go well. But he always goes and says something disgusting.

  “Here you go… Mu,” said Harry.

  She finally straightened up. Before her was a bright pink drink.

  “What’s this?” she asked.

  Harry shrugged. “A new creation. If you like it, you can name it.”

  She raised it and inspected it closer. It was pretty. She took a sip. It was sweet – which she’d expected from its appearance – but it was also strong. She grimaced. She’d barely touched a drop of alcohol on Lunayuan after they left Heye. Her head swirled.

  “Grimacing?” said Tavian, with a laugh, looking Harry’s way. “Not a good sign, my man.”

  “No,” said Mu, taking another sip. “This is what I want.”

  “Girlfriend’s getting fucked up tonight,” remarked Harry.

  “Harry! Don’t be so crude,” she said, though her heart wasn’t in it. She drunk some more.

  “Yeah, that’s my job,” said Tavian.

  “And what do you want?” asked Harry.

  Tavian shrugged. Then he glanced Mu’s way. “I’ll have what she’s having. But I need to know the name to order it, right?”

  “Well, it would certainly make things easier, going forward,” said Harry.

  The two of them looked at her expectantly.

  “Sweet Oblivion,” she said.

  Harry seemed to consider her answer. Then he shrugged. “Fine. I did say you could name it.”

  “You don’t like it?” she asked, slightly offended.

  “It’s fine.”

  “You don’t like it.”

  “It’s fine.”

  She didn’t have the energy to keep arguing. She just drunk more. She was already halfway through.

  “If you’re making him one, make me another,” she said.

  Harry laughed and turned back to Tavian.

  “Sweet Oblivion?”

  “Sweet Oblivion.”

  Harry set to work.

  Shortly after Harry set down three glasses of bright pink liquid on the bar.

  “Shall we retire to the lounge?” asked Tavian.

  “Sure,” said Harry.

  Mu was starting to think the lounge might be safer than this precarious barstool. She nodded meekly, straw in mouth.

  She drained the rest of her first drink. Teetered slightly. Stepped off the barstool. Followed the boys to the lounge.

  Harry carried the drinks.

  “Might wanna ease up a little there,” murmured Harry.

  She frowned at him. She hiccoughed. “You’re the reason I’m like this. You two.”

  Harry and Tavian exchanged looks.

  Mu half fell, half sat in the lounge chair.

  She turned Tavian’s way. He was sitting, one arm draped over the side of the lounge, the other cradling his drink, one ankle across the other knee. The pink drink was quite the contrast to the rest of his appearance.

  “How are you so… okay?” she asked.

  He raised an eyebrow.

  “Not gonna lie, what happened back there was all sorts of unpleasant,” he took a sip, “But watcha gonna do? Life is short. It’s bad enough that we need to spend anytime around that horrific shit. Why spend the time we’re not around it, dwelling on it?”

  “Here, here!” said Harry, raising his glass.

  Mu thought about it.

  “I don’t choose to dwell,” she said.

  Tavian’s expression softened. “You went through it. I don’t even fully know what it was, but you went through it.”

  “I remembered some things,” said Mu. “Things from my childhood, things I had totally forgotten. It was what allowed me to break free, to reject the Mimesis.”

  “But?” said Tavian. “I’m sensing a but.”

  “But they were things my father did. I don’t know what… but he and… the Director of the Resonance Bureau… they did things to me as a child that allowed me to fight it, to fight the Hive.”

  “Thanks, Dad,” said Harry.

  “No. No,” she said, spilling a little of her drink, “No, we don’t thank Dad. I want to get by on my own. As long as I’m only getting by because of his interventions… how can I be free of him? Of the Empire?”

  “You gotta reframe it,” said Tavian, “You’re now using what he gave you for your own sake. You’re reclaiming it, repurposing it. That’s freedom.”

  “I don’t get it,” said Mu. “I just don’t want to think about him. I don’t want to rely on him. I—”

  “Well of course not,” said Tavian. “By all accounts he’s a massive cunt.”

  “He is a massive cunt,” said Mu.

  “Whoa,” said Harry, “You kicked things up a gear there, Princess.”

  “I don’t care,” said Mu, finishing her drink and putting it down on the table.

  Tavian laughed. “Maybe she’s right,” he said to Harry. “Maybe we are a bad influence on her.”

  “Whatever,” said Mu. “I don’t wanna talk about him. Or Luanyuan. It’s like you say, Mr Locke: no time to dwell on it.”

  “There you go,” said Tavian. “That’s more like it.”

  “Someone should put on some music,” said Mu.

  “Sure, why not?” said Harry, and pulled out his tablet. After a few taps some quiet music began playing in the background.

  “We need more drinks,” said Mu.

  She noticed Tavian and Harry exchange looks again. Harry got up and went the bar. He handed Tavian a beer and took one for himself. He handed her a glass of clear liquid.

  “This is water!” she grumbled.

  “It’s best you drink that for now.”

  “Don’t patronise me,” she said, “I’m a grown woman.”

  Harry nodded. “And as such a mature, grown woman, you would know when to drink some water.”

  She glared at him, but did as he instructed, taking a long sip of water. It was pleasant and cold.

  “Turn up the music!” she said. “We should dance.”

  She rose to her feet, but felt everything sway.

  Harry grabbed her before she teetered over.

  “Whoa,” she murmured. “Thanks, Mr Zhang.”

  “Maybe it’s time for bed,” said Harry.

  “Frankly, I’m amazed by how quickly she went downhill,” said Tavian.

  “Hey!” said Mu, pointing at him. She paused a moment, swaying slightly as Harry propped her up. “I heard that,” she said eventually.

  “She’s just tired,” said Harry.

  “I am super sleepy,” said Mu. “Which is crazy, right? Because I was sleeping for… like… a lot of the time. Tavian put me to sleep with his magic music.”

  “I did, yeah,” said Tavian.

  “But I had to fight a puppet. And there were bees. They didn’t sting me. And I had to go to my lessons. It was good the bees didn’t sting me.”

  “Sweet Oblivion…” murmured Harry. “Guess it does work.”

  “My Dad’s a cu—”

  “Let’s get you to bed, Princess,” said Harry.

  “Don’t call me Princess!” she said. “Oh… but I guess I am. But I don’t want to be? Do you know they were going to make me Empress? How crazy is that.”

  Harry led her out of the bar. She watched Tavian sitting serenely as they left. He gazed out the window, not watching them.

  She should have asked him to play some music.

  I like his music.

  He’s a good guy.

  “Hey, Harry?”

  “Yes?”

  “Tavian’s a good guy, right?”

  “He’s not the worst,” said Harry.

  “But sometimes I tell him he is,” said Mu, “But I don’t think he is.”

  “That’s nice.”

  “No, it’s not. It’s rude. Sometimes, I’m rude.”

  “Right now, you’re just drunk.”

  “I’m not… oh yeah,” she said with a giggle, “I am sooo drunk. Those drinks were crazy strong.”

  “Maybe I’ll make them weaker next time.”

  “I said I wanted strong. I wanted to forget. But that didn’t work. Now I’m drunk… but I still remember. I remember it all.”

  “You just need sleep,” said Harry.

  “Sometimes I remember the future,” she said. “I wish I didn’t. The things I remember about it… they’re dark.”

  They reached a door.

  “Hey, this is my room!”

  “It sure is,” said Harry.

  She pointed at the door opposite. “That’s Tavian’s room. We’re neighbours!”

  “Very cool.”

  “Right?”

  The door opened with a tap of the panel from Harry.

  He led her inside. She sat on the side of her bed. She felt herself sway slightly. Harry went to the kitchenette. She heard the water running.

  He placed a glass on her bedside table.

  “You need anything else?” he asked.

  “Can you take my shoes off?” she asked. “I think- I think I’ll fall over if I do it.”

  He nodded and knelt down, tugging each of her shoes off and setting them down neatly at the foot of her bed.

  “Thank you, Harry,” she said.

  She lay down.

  She looked out the window. There was little to see.

  “I don’t like it when we’re doing a Jump,” she said.

  Harry sounded like he was already at the door. “Oh?” he said.

  “Yeah,” she said. “I like to see the Stars. There are some bad Stars. But they’re mostly good. That’s what I think. It’s people… I’m not so sure about people.”

  “Get some sleep, Mu,” said Harry, his voice gentle.

  “Yeah, yeah that’s a good idea,” she said. “Thank you… Harry.”

  “Goodnight.”

  “Goodnight.”

  The Amrita was far larger than it needed to be, for a crew of eight. There were parts of the ship that were thus seldom visited, for the need simply never arose. Yet, now Ostara proceeded down a dark hallway.

  For the first time in quite some time, she felt clean, wholly herself. She was clad once more in her customary flowing white dress, belted beneath her bust. A golden band shone upon her bare upper arm; a jewelled choker was upon her neck. No bandage adorned her arm, the flesh showing no sign of any injury.

  She tapped a panel on the wall as she stopped before a door. Obligingly, the door slid open and she stepped through. The room beyond was reasonably large, but had no windows, and was dimly lit. Much of the Amrita’s interior was decorated in a homely and inviting manner, but this room was far more utilitarian.

  A simple, single bed abutted the far wall. Its occupant, ever the prisoner, arose upon her entry. Eyes void of light or curiosity fell upon her. The colour was just as she remembered it, from the first time she visited him in prison. That blue was difficult to forget. Yet there was little of the profound, contemplative mind behind them: the one she had seen back then.

  “How do you feel, Mr Yarghunoghul?” she asked.

  “If you will not share the liberation of Mimesis with your crew, you may as well dispose of this one,” replied Toghrul. “It appears neither you, nor we have any use for it.”

  Ostara did not smile. “That does not sound like liberation.”

  “Before the coming of the Mimesis, life is suffering. Unsatiated desire, jealousy, fear of loss and death: these things are sovereign. Yet now, observe this one before you: so utterly liberated from such things as mortal fear as to be indifferent between life and death. His suffering was profound; now it is at an end.”

  “What purpose is there to such an existence?” asked Ostara.

  “What purpose is there to any existence?” asked Toghrul/the Hive. “Ah, but we have purpose, insofar as any do. We will make all things one. We will achieve a singularity of consciousness, a Cosmic oneness. Our divine project defies entropy itself.”

  “We do not want it,” said Ostara. “It is in the transience of things that the magic of life – not mere survival – is found.”

  “What you want? Desire is the cradle of suffering. Once all other desires are supplanted by the singular hope for the Sweet Wine of Mimesis, that suffering ends, purpose is defined: Cosmic, pure, divine.”

  Ostara shook her head. “I am not here to bandy words with demons.”

  “You reject such great honour,” said Toghrul. “To speak with any of us, is to confer directly with the Great Star of the Hive. To speak to a Star – it is an honour usually left only to a Theophant.”

  “This is no Theophany,” replied Ostara. “But tell me, before we move on: has your… Hive Star… granted Theophany? True Theophany?”

  Toghrul smiled a smile that was not his. “Of course. The one who was visited by the Eutria of the Hive, the first to drink the Sweet Wine, the one once known as Mei Xuelan. She has stood in audience before the Burning One. She is the Queen of the Hive, the vessel that will carry the Mimesis to all worlds. The one who will extinguish all suffering.”

  Ostara had suspected as much. She glanced away, the weight of the Mimetic’s words laying heavy upon her.

  But Toghrul’s voice sounded again, and this time its words were unexpected.

  “We know why you resist, Ostara.”

  Ostara gave him an inquiring look.

  “Many colours flow within your veins, do they not?”

  “A consequence of exposure to the Mimesis, I’m sure,” replied Ostara, strongly disinclined to follow this line of conversation.

  “That’s not true. Your blood has always been such. You need not lie to us. Yet we are curious. Which Star sent you to defy us… Eutria?”

  She shook her head. “I am no Eutria. I am a human woman. I am forty-one years old. I am first mate of the Starship Amrita. I am a gardener.”

  “Where were you born? Who were your parents? Tell us of your childhood.”

  Those memories were nowhere to be found.

  “You indulge in absurdity,” she snapped back, a harsh edge entering her voice.

  “You don’t even know, do you?”

  She did not remember, but that was not in itself evidence. Apollo had found her, adrift in the void, the sole survivor of a forgotten civilisation, left in stasis. He had given her purpose and life, what occurred before that was immaterial.

  “I am not here to discuss myself.”

  “The cat… the cat’s important, isn’t it? You were sent to it. But by which Star?”

  The Mimetic paused.

  “We have changed our mind. We do not want you to destroy this one. We will observe you, Eutria.”

  Ostara ignored it. “There is someone who wishes to speak with you, though I advised against it.”

  Toghrul cocked his head to one side, an unusually normal gesture of curiosity.

  Ostara withdrew her tablet and turned it upright. She tapped the screen with her other hand.

  “Khatun,” she said, “He is here. Once again… I hope you are ready for what you see and… I am truly sorry.”

  Sayan’s image appeared in the air above the tablet. At first, she did not speak. Her brilliant eyes narrowed as she gazed at Toghrul, assessing him.

  She nodded.

  “What have you done with him, monster?” she asked.

  “Sayan Yinalqizi. Khatun of the Jaril Confederacy, the tribeswoman who defied an Empire. You interest us. Come to us. Drink of the Sweet Wine and all your questions will be answered.”

  “Does this demon always speak like this?” asked Sayan.

  “It appears so,” replied Ostara.

  Sayan took a deep breath. “I have asked much of you, Ostara. But I have another request. I want you to learn all you can of this thing that has taken Toghrul. I want you to report to me what you discover.”

  “I can do that,” said Ostara. “I can tell you this much: they call themselves the Hive. I do not know how long they will be contained to Luanyuan. The Captain has alerted the Imperial authorities of the threat. I will send you the information we have compiled so far, but my recommendation to you is to put in place surveillance for any signs of their spread. Having claimed Toghrul… Yarkan will already be in their awareness.”

  Sayan nodded, and though she spoke to Ostara, she continued to look towards Toghrul. “Thank you, Ostara. You are a good friend of the Jaril. Does this… Hive… come from a Star?”

  “We know little of it. The Hive Star is the only name we have for it.”

  “Then I have two new goals: to locate this star, and to develop the means to kill a God,” said Sayan.

  “We will do all we can to free Toghrul of this curse,” said Ostara. “Let me assure you.”

  The Mimetic had simply been watching them this whole time. “Your efforts will be in vain. Madam Ostara is correct, though: we will come to Yarkan soon enough. Your people will join us, Khatun.”

  Sayan sneered. “The Jaril have faced the power of the Stars before. We are not afraid of your Hive.”

  “You need not be afraid,” said Toghrul. “For there is no fear in the Hive.”

  “You have made an enemy, demon,” said Sayan. “You took my daughter’s father from her. When I am done, there will be no Hive.”

  “Such needless defiance,” murmured the Hive.

  Ostara ignored it. “Khatun, there is something I wish to discuss with you, away from their eyes.”

  “Of course,” said Sayan.

  Ostara cast one final glance at Toghrul, before departing the room. Once she had walked a decent distance down the corridor, she spoke to Sayan once more.

  “Mukushen,” she began, “Fell to the Hive. But we got her back. There is a way.”

  “The Princess is strong,” said Sayan. “But Toghrul is also. I am confident he will return to us.”

  “As am I, Khatun, but I do not think the road will be easy. It appears Princess Mukushen’s father had taken steps to reinforce her mind and Resonance. It made her especially challenging for the Hive to claim.”

  Sayan smiled and nodded. “Toghrul may not have the Imperial Resonance Bureau behind him. But he is the Hero of Yarkan. He has never wavered in his commitment to what is right. He has endured more trials than is reasonable to ask of anyone, but endure them he has. He will endure this one. He will emerge victorious. I know it.”

  Ostara smiled broadly. “I can hear your certainty.”

  “Please, Ostara, do all you can to aid him in this battle.”

  “Of course, Khatun.”

  “Our nation is indebted to you and your crew.”

  Lieutenant Lin Jiehong of LPDC Security was having some regrets. He had come to Luanyuan for the pay, under no illusions that it would be an ordeal. But the LPDC paid far better than the Verdant Standard Army, and he had a wife and a new baby for whom he wanted to secure a future.

  While a posting in Heye was preferable in most senses to one out in the penal colonies, there was yet more money to be made in the jungle. Until an hour ago he had been hoping to hear news of his promotion to Commandant, and assignment to a post upriver.

  The news, however, had not been good.

  It looked like he was staying in Heye.

  Still, he reminded himself, the money’s better than the Verdant Standard. Plus, life in the jungle must be worse even than Heye.

  Instead of taking a boat upriver to assume a new command, he found himself sitting at the planet’s only spaceport, overseeing the customs operations that the Imperial Government outsourced to the Company. It was dreary work, but at least it was easy.

  Still, things had become slightly more complex today. Orders had gone out from HQ that they were to be on the lookout for a new narcotic being manufactured in the penal settlements. Apparently, some of these convicts were not deterred by their transportation to this hell, and were still pursuing criminal enterprises, trying to export drugs off world.

  Still, hard to blame them. If one had to be on Luanyuan, the least one could hope for was to make money. They weren’t so different to Lin himself, in that respect. But regardless of any empathy he might hold for them, he had a job to do – and if he wanted an eventual promotion, he was going to do that job.

  In practice, this meant upping random searches, bringing in additional scanning checkpoints, and rotating staff, just in case any were confederates.

  Apparently, other LPDC personnel were conducting searches of vessels on the river, but Lin was the last line of defence to stop this stuff getting off world.

  Why it was so important to intercept it, he couldn’t say. Apparently, the orders had come from a strange source: the Bureau of Biological Sciences. He guessed that meant the stuff must be made from one of Luanyuan’s bizarre plants. That made some sense to him – who knew what a drug made from those things might do.

  The name of the substance didn’t give any clues to him, though: Sweet Wine, they called it. The information he had received said it was a viscous, multicoloured liquid. Any samples obtained were to be surrendered to personnel just arrived from the Bureau.

  Oh well, he thought, Not my place to understand. Just follow the orders, take the paycheque.

  Presently, he was carrying out his round of inspections. He had reached one processing point to find that the responsible officer’s relief had never arrived. Suppressing the urge to grumble, Lin told the woman that he would personally take over from her until adequate staffing arrangements could be reached.

  “Thank you, sir,” she’d said, and been on her way.

  She had not been gone long, when an unusual group approached the checkpoint. He only had to glance at them for internal alarm bells to start ringing.

  A young girl, perhaps in the midst of her teenage years, was accompanied by three large men – undoubtedly former convicts.

  Or perhaps escapees, he thought. Better do a check on them.

  And of course, even if these men had served their time, there were other reasons for concern. Why would a young girl be travelling with men such as these? Chances are she was being trafficked.

  “Excuse me,” he said, halting them at the checkpoint. “Can I see some identification?”

  The three men did not respond to him at all. Instead, the girl stepped toward him. Looking at her now, he wondered if she wasn’t even younger than he’d first guessed.

  There are some sick people out there, he mused.

  “Perhaps you might find this more interesting than identification?” she said, as she lifted her bag toward him, opening it. He looked inside and saw it was filled with vials of rainbow liquid.

  Sweet Wine.

  “Ah… miss… you will have to come with me,” he said.

  He glanced around. Still no sign of relief personnel. Nothing for it then, he’d have to shut down the whole checkpoint.

  “This entrance is closed,” he announced to the few people standing behind this group. “Please go to another checkpoint.”

  He tapped a button and the gate behind him closed, physically barring passage to the departures area of the spaceport. “This way please, miss,” he said, indicating with his arm. “You gentlemen can stay here.”

  He didn’t like leaving them unattended, but there wasn’t much for it. He certainly needed to speak with this girl alone. Perhaps she was deliberately getting caught with the Sweet Wine so that she could escape her captors.

  He led her to an office.

  As he walked there, he found his mind dwelling on those vials in her bag. There was something mesmerising about that stuff.

  Lin had never been a drug user of any sort, unless you counted his drinking. But he couldn’t deny there was some unexplainable appeal to what he had seen. He guessed that was why people indulged, despite the dangers – dangers his parents had always impressed upon him.

  Reaching the office, he closed the door behind them.

  “Would you like some, sir?” asked the girl.

  “Er, no,” he said, caught out by her question. Then he added, more assertively, “No, absolutely not. I will have to confiscate your bag. Are you aware you are transporting illegal narcotics?”

  “Illegal narcotics?” she laughed. “No. We are carrying hope.”

  There was something very strange about her demeanour. He grabbed the bag from her. She did not resist. He inspected its contents once more.

  It was certainly tantalising.

  Why are you thinking like this? he asked himself.

  “Who are you?” he asked. “Are those men… forcing you to do things against your will?”

  “I was once called Mei Xuelan,” she said. “But that name isn’t important anymore.”

  “Once?” he asked.

  She lifted her hand and a swirl of golden dust trailed behind it. She never placed it anywhere near the bag or the vials, but in a moment her cupped palm was before his face. And dripping from it was the Sweet Wine.

  “Life doesn’t have to be disappointing anymore,” she said. “All your worries will dissipate when you drink.”

  He felt uneasy.

  He felt desire.

  “Wha-what is this?” he asked, taking a step backwards, though the closed door blocked him from moving any farther.

  “The end of suffering, the end of desire.”

  He shook his head, as if to dislodge the strange thoughts now filling his mind. He cleared his throat.

  He was in charge here.

  He was a professional.

  “Are you presently intoxicated, miss?”

  “Far from it. We see with the most profound clarity.”

  His eyes turned to the liquid that drizzled from between her fingers. He watched a strand distend, separate, tumble to the floor, splash.

  It glistened.

  The colours swirled.

  He swallowed.

  He steeled himself once more. “I am going to have to take you into custody, miss, if you will not answer my questions.”

  She seemed unfazed. “There will be no more captivity on Luanyuan soon.”

  There was a knock at the door, startling Lin.

  When his mind processed what it was, though, he was almost glad for the interruption. He opened the door. It was the Commandant-in-Chief of Heye.

  “Ah, sir!” he said, flinging off a salute. “I… I found some of the narcot—”

  He didn’t get to finish. The Commandant was smiling softly. “It would be better if you just partook,” he said.

  Lin didn’t understand.

  He looked back toward the girl. Behind her something long, something with many arms and many eyes was moving. It hadn’t been there before.

  “I have a wife. A daughter.”

  “They can join us too.”

  “I…” he didn’t finish.

  Lin lost the will to resist.

  He fell to his knees and the Blood of Many Colours drizzled into his upturned mouth.

  A warmth and calm spread through his being.

  That calm stayed with him as he rose to attend to his new duties. To ready ships.

  It was time for the Hive to set out into the Cosmos.

  I'll have some updates on when Arc 4: Tears of the Deep will launch soon, so stay tuned. I'll also likely have some other material in the meantime, such as an updated Glossary & Dramatis Personae for this arc.

  Amrita's journey will continue soon.