Light From Uncommon Stars(105)

Floresta shook her head.

“No, she’s not.”

Floresta had not seen Lanny smile since the night she found out about Shizuka. When Lan had returned that morning in November, the first thing she did was clear the workshop and issue urgent yet inexplicable orders.

“Someone help Aunty Floresta with the fryers! Shirley, overhaul the runabout! Edwin, inventory the storeroom! And, Windee, when are you going to install the graviton emitters?”

“I already installed the graviton emitters,” Windee had said.

“Just do what I said. That’s an order!”

Windee had cried.

“Mother?” Shirley asked.

“Just go.”

And Lan then climbed up into the donut and said that she would complete the stargate herself.

The next day, Lan had apologized to the crew. But her smile had never returned. Outside of meals and her work shifts at the counter, Lanny spent most of her time fidgeting with the stargate alone.

There was no violence, no move to self-destruct. By now, Floresta was sure that this was not the Endplague. But in some ways, it was worse.

Starrgate Donut was thriving, and the family was settling in. Windee and Edwin would start school in the fall. Shirley and Katrina had even devised a way to stuff both projector and reactor into a backpack, and now the two of them could go shopping, or wherever else those two would go.

Lanny had delivered them to safety. But why, for her, had there been so very little peace? And now what must she be feeling when the woman she loved was beyond her power to save?

More and more often, Floresta would catch her niece staring in the direction of their Empire. And from behind her locked door, Floresta would hear her niece listening to music, thin and faint, as if Lan Tran herself were wasting away.

However, this morning, for the first time since November, Lan had summoned Shirley for a status update.

“Aunty, I hope Shirley can help Mom,” Edwin said.

“I hope so, too.”

Floresta tried to be optimistic. It was a good sign that Lanny had called for her daughter. After all, some things, a parent can only confide in her grown child.

Maybe she could talk to Shirley, really talk to her, tell her everything she was feeling about losing Shizuka. But who was Floresta kidding? It was far more likely they had created protocols to hire more staff.

Aunty Floresta’s best guess was that after Shizuka … after Shizuka Satomi died, Lan would bring the stargate to full power, then take the runabout and return Markus to the Empire herself.

That sounded like something Lan would do.

But after that? There would still be the Endplague. And Lan would be alone. Before she could ponder this any further, Shirley’s voice spoke over the intercom.

“Hello, everyone. Mother would like the crew to assemble in the control room.”





* * *



It was the night before the Golden Friendship Violin Competition.

Friendship? Competition? Shizuka Satomi thought of every contest she had won, every rival she had targeted and broken. Even now, she could feel her bones remembering … her fingers curling, her neck tilting, her back gracefully arching to meet the lights …

She thought of every student whom she’d taught to do the same.

How did other people perceive time? Where were their largos, andantes, vivaces? Where were their accelerandos, their rubatos, rallentandos?

She recalled every endless hour of practice, every Thanksgiving put off, Christmas missed, birthday forgotten.

And now it was February, once again.

Once again there was a competition, and tomorrow Katrina would play magnificently. Yes, it was Bartók, and many would find it strange. And, of course, many would find her strange.

But she was Katrina Nguyen, the final, finest student of the Queen of Hell.

Afterward, there would be flowers, applause, celebrations, mingling, all sorts of praise and promises made.

And much later, they would come home, celebrate with family, refreshments, tangerine juice, and tea.

Finally, Shizuka would play her violin. Katrina would think it a celebration. She need not know it was farewell.

And then it would be midnight.

Katrina would be fine. With this win, she need never worry about money or career again. Shirley was with her, and Astrid, and the music she played, the music Shizuka had so cherished, would now be hers.

And Lan?

She didn’t want to think about leaving Lan. But Lan would be okay. She was a starship captain with a donut shop. And in 246 years, a level-five gamma ray burst would illuminate this solar system like the music of the spheres. Lan had told her that day, as they tossed donuts into the lake.

Lan said it would be the most beautiful spectacle ever.

Yet surely it would be even more beautiful reflected within Donut Lady’s eyes.

“No one has ever matched you,” Astrid had told her.

At the time, all she had said was that it was Katrina’s turn to shine.

And yes, it was.

But what about her? Had she really spent enough breakfasts with Astrid? Had she really spent enough lessons with Katrina?

Had she really spent enough nights with Lan?

Yes, it was time for her student to live, but …

Oh, Satomi … how sad, how selfish, to feel that your song is ending just as you are remembering how to sing. Shizuka glanced around her room.