Light From Uncommon Stars(54)

Each had been a talented, yet unheralded musician. Then each spectacularly rose to win major competitions. Each had gone on tour, gained recording contracts, played for presidents, royalty.

But then?

“Katrina, this is why Shizuka Satomi is called the Queen of Hell.”

Shirley shifted to another screen.

“The prevailing theory is that Shizuka makes a deal with each student. Fame for souls. The hypothesis is there is a cursed object involved. Each of these musicians had a favorite instrument, so it is not a violin. However, in these pictures, each seemed to be using the same light-colored violin bow before they died.”

Katrina squinted. Some of the older pictures were a bit fuzzy, but it was possible …

“But I’ve never been given such a bow.”

“They’ve noticed.”

Shirley highlighted a thread called “Queen of Hell, New Student?”

“Stop. Just stop.”

“Do you now understand the danger that you’re in?” Shirley said.

Shizuka took a deep breath. She’d enjoyed teaching Katrina much more than she’d expected. Watching old videos, playing, then following … At times, it had seemed as if the curse had never been.

How wonderful it must be, to be normal. But that was not her life.

She’d been careless. She’d not secured Katrina’s soul. She’d let her guard down with Lan. And now Shirley would have to be stopped, and all this technology would have to be destroyed.

As for Katrina?

Shizuka closed her eyes, preparing herself for what she had to do.

But then she felt Katrina’s hand grab on to her own.

“Miss Satomi. You don’t think I already know?”

Yesterday, Astrid brought her some toast and a new type of cheese. The day before, she brought some iced coffee from Li’s Sandwiches.

And tomorrow, she could be killed.

Did Shirley really think she did not know? Did Miss Satomi really think—that she’d believe that she was being taught for nothing?

If being queer had taught her anything, it was that there was always a price.

So—what might Miss Satomi want from her? Money? Of course not.

Sex? If Miss Satomi had wanted sex, she could have secured it from any admirer with a glance.

No. It had to be something more.

Katrina picked up Aubergine.

Suddenly the room disappeared. Shirley was shocked at what she perceived—the sophistication of the programming was far, far more elaborate than what she expected from a simple Earth girl.

Katrina noticed Shirley’s surprise.

Silly girl. Do you think I have no experience with illusion?

As Katrina played, she thought of her beloved Schradieck. She thought of the book’s first owner. What sort of a family did she come from? What would it have been like to have a teacher who drew happy stars in your book?

How wonderful it must be, to be normal. But that was not her life, was it? Of course she was a freak. But for now, she was a freak with a roof over her head, learning to play music with a voice that was finally her own.

And from that music, Katrina smiled at her teacher.

How did I find out? I didn’t have to—because I never expected to survive.

They would work the details out later.

But for now, she would play—no.

She would sing.

Almost reflexively, Shirley analyzed the sound. Judging from the quality of the illusion, the studio must be performing to specifications. The fidelity was perfect—no, more so.

Wait. But how could the signal be more than perfect? That was not possible.

A calibration error? No, the sound and visuals were still synchronized. It must be an overload!

Quickly, she checked the projector’s power consumption. An overload would be catastrophic.

But outside of Shirley’s own presence, the consumption was … zero?

This could not be. Shirley felt her program grow unstable.

Something was very wrong. She tried to signal the emergency shutoff, but the program was not ending.

Restart the system. Restart …

She was in the lab with her mother. But she was incomplete, presentient. Parts of her were being added, subroutines were being coded line by line.

But if she was presentient, how she could comprehend this?

How could she sense her mother? And her father? Mother was afraid. Father was angry. He was yelling at her? Why? She was a child—an infant. She saw her mother crying as she switched her off, then on.

Then off.

“Mother!”

In the dark, she was floating. Time passed around her, but she occupied no space. No location. Pieces fell away, and she again became nothing.

But not nothing.

Even here, even nowhere, why was there music?

“Shirley?”

Shirley blinked. The darkness faded—she was in Katrina’s studio? In Shizuka Satomi’s house?

“W-what happened?”

“You fainted,” Katrina said. “I can get you some water if you want.”

“No, no, I don’t require water.”

Had she malfunctioned? But it hadn’t felt like an error.

A memory, then? No. Memory could be lost, corrupted. Memory fades. This was something intrinsic. It was real. It was truth. This music—she was within it, even now.

“So, you are here willingly?” she asked Katrina shakily.