Chapter XLI – Ochlocracy

  “Wake up!” came a gruff voice, and Nova felt strong hands on her shoulders. Blinking sleepily, she looked up into Kal’s grizzled face, his eyes flaring with urgency.

  “What is it?”

  “I heard gunshots,” said Kal. “The defensive ditch has been lit. We’ve gotta be ready to flee.”

  Nova sat bolt upright, wiping away the sleep from her eyes. “Well, shit, huh…?”

  “Can you contact the Amrita?” asked Kal.

  “The Cap was able to get through to me yesterday…” said Nova, her mind spinning, “But that was probably because of the enhancements I did at that end. Not sure if we’d achieve the same result from our end.”

  “If it works one way, it’ll work the other, won’t it?” said Kal, his voice frustrated.

  “It’s complicated,” said Nova.

  Kal clearly knew better than to argue with her on such matters. “I’m gonna wake Harry. Get ready. We may need to leave on a moment’s notice.”

  Nova nodded and Kal disappeared. Nova quickly changed out of her sleeping clothes into her regular outfit, grimacing as she put it on – even by her standards it was now intolerably filthy.

  As she was putting her boots on, Kal returned, Harry in tow.

  “Ready?” asked Kal, gruffly.

  “Yeah,” said Nova. “For what – I don’t know.”

  “You two stay here. I’m going to find out what’s going on. Nova, try and get in touch with the Captain. We might need rapid extraction, subtlety be damned. If you can’t get him, try Kang again. We need an exit fast.”

  Nova nodded and Kal headed out.

  She remembered what Apollo had said about protecting the girl. What had held her back, she didn’t know, but she hadn’t mentioned any of those details to Kal and Harry. It was the first time she’d ever failed to obey Apollo’s orders immediately. Somehow though, this whole situation made her uneasy. She’d tell Kal when he got back. She had to.

  She turned her mind away from it. There was shouting outside, audible even over the rumbling of thunder. She turned to Harry, swallowing nervously.

  “What do you think is happening?”

  “One or both of two things,” said Harry, “Either the vines are breaking in, or someone’s making a move to take control of this place.”

  “You think the Commandant might have started shooting people?” asked Nova.

  Harry shrugged. “Who knows? But it definitely wouldn’t surprise me. Kal’s right: every moment we stay here, we are at increasing risk of copping a bullet.”

  Nova took a deep shuddering breath. “This is not a good place.”

  “I’d go further,” said Harry. “I’d go so far as to say it is shit. Absolutely fucking awful. Just straight up hell.”

  Nova gave a little laugh. “You’re so right, Harry. I wish I’d just hung out on the ship like Ser-bear.”

  The sound of two gunshots rang out outside. Nova flinched, her every muscle tensing. She looked at Harry. He raised his eyebrows and gave an attempt at a reassuring smile.

  “Probably fine,” he said. “It’s probably all fine.”

  “Oh, for sure. Sounds fine.”

  “Kal will know what to do,” said Harry.

  “Yeah… yeah he will,” agreed Nova. “I, um, I should try and contact the Captain, like he said.”

  “Probably,” agreed Harry.

  “And, um, Harry? I… ah… well, when I spoke with the Cap yesterday, he kind of told me something, that I was supposed to tell the rest of you.”

  Harry looked intrigued. “And what might that be?”

  “The girl – the one Ostara and Tavian found at the crash site? He wants us to protect her. He says it’s more important than rescuing Toghrul.”

  Harry didn’t respond immediately. He just nodded slowly. When he did speak, all he said was, “Right.”

  Nova pulled out her tablet. “I’m gonna try and contact him now. I just thought you should know. Since you’ll probably hear our conversation.”

  “Right.”

  She put in the call. She was using a device provided to her by Kang to bolster the signal, but she still wasn’t sure whether she would be able to reach the Amrita, over a billion kilometres away. And she was relying on achieving FTL comms, which a standard personal tablet wasn’t designed for. If Kang’s device didn’t work, it would be a about ninety minutes each way, sending signals between Luanyuan and the Amrita. Three hours for a reply. Which obviously meant no real time communication.

  She sighed. “Nothing,” she said. She shot off a brief text message, having no idea whether it would reach the Amrita.

  “What about trying Ostara and the others?” asked Harry. “They should probably be told something’s up. Plus, they’re gonna be where that girl is soon.”

  Nova nodded and tried to make another call.

  Jiwen ran through the lashing rain, through the thick dark, periodically torn asunder by brilliant light. Voices. Gunshots. Thunder.

  Up ahead the dark was being driven back. Chemical flames rose in fierce defiance of the deluge.

  He had known this night was coming; witnessing it was something else. This was the big one. And it was all hands on deck.

  But why gunshots?

  He looked about him as he ran, even as he strove not to slip in the churned mud that now covered everything. Yet apart from the glow ahead, or the fleeting moments of lightning flashes, he could see little that revealed what was going on.

  Yet Gao’s words echoed in his mind.

  “It’s about to start.”

  What have you done?

  He neared the perimeter and saw Jia Hongmei. One of Gao’s people.

  In her hand she held a vibro-saw. And he could see that hand was trembling, but he did not think it was because of the vibrations of the saw.

  “What’s happening?” he demanded.

  “What’s it look like?” she yelled back, her eyes only casting a fleeting look his way. He heard exhaustion in her voice.

  Before Jiwen could answer, two tendrils appeared, each wreathed in flame, like the appendages of some fiery demon. She moved quickly, slicing through one, then the other.

  It didn’t stop them.

  Jiwen activated his own vibro-saw, leaping forward with a cry of “To your right!”

  He swung and another chunk of vine fell to the ground. But these weren’t creatures. They were plants. They did not feel pain. They did not feel at all.

  Yet, still, somehow, they hungered.

  Jiwen was dimly aware that another had joined them, but he didn’t see who it was, nor could he spare the attention to look and find out. He had to focus. Death was the alternative.

  The fire isn’t stopping them.

  Was it slowing them?

  He slashed one way, then the other, his eyes darting about, searching for every sign of movement. One mistake could be his last. The moment one gets hold, that’s the end.

  Somewhere another gunshot rung out.

  Who was shooting?

  Why?

  Bullets would do no good against these vines.

  More vines were emerging from the inferno of the pit. He felt despair welling up inside him. This felt different to that earlier time in the jungle. Perhaps it was the darkness, the confusion.

  And we don’t have Madam Ostara with us. She was the only reason we survived that time.

  He did his best to push aside the rising panic.

  Think like a scientist. They cannot keep coming indefinitely. They need energy to sustain movement like any lifeform. They can’t photosynthesise at night. As long as they don’t eat, they’ll run out of fuel.

  As long as no one dies.

  Endurance.

  That’s what it came down to.

  He kept going. He had to. Zhang Jiwen was a fit man. But this effort was relentless. The vines constantly reaching towards him. Swinging this way, that way. And the saws were not meant to be used like this – continually. The vibrations had the effect of numbing the hand over time.

  But there was no choice.

  To his side Jia Hongmei gave a shout of frustration as she hacked away. “Just go back… into… the fucking… jungle,” she growled as she hacked and hacked, chunks of vine littering the slush at her feet.

  And then they did.

  Whether they had succumbed to the fire, Jiwen didn’t know. But for one reason or another, the tendrils began withdrawing, slithering back, giving an occasional writhing twitch, like a lizard’s fallen tail.

  The defenders were silent a moment.

  The storm roared on overhead.

  Jiwen tried to steady his heavy breathing.

  Jia looked around, her eyes reflecting the flames as they searched the dark for more vines.

  “Did we do it?” she asked.

  Jiwen shook his head, “I don’t know.”

  He wanted to believe they had. But he didn’t, not yet.

  “I think they’ve stopped,” said the newcomer, who Jiwen only now turned to look at. Li Zichuan, a man Jiwen had never much spoken to.

  “I hope so,” murmured Jia, though Jiwen could tell from her voice that she wasn’t quite ready to believe it either.

  Jiwen continued to scan the flame-shrouded boundary. He saw nothing.

  He felt his heartbeat slowing.

  “We should check elsewhere along the perimeter,” he said. “Others might still be fighting.”

  Jia nodded.

  “Okay,” she said, the fatigue thick in her voice.

  “Everyone unhurt?” asked Jiwen.

  “I’m fine,” said Li Zichuan.

  “I’m alright,” said Jia.

  The vine came at that moment, like a striking viper. It was so fast that Jiwen hadn’t processed what he was seeing by the time he heard the snap of her neck. There was surprise in her eyes, too, even as her form crumpled to the ground, and more vines erupted, entangling her limp form.

  He didn’t have time to process the shock, the horror. They were coming. His actions were almost automatic, his own mind barely processing them. He flicked the switch on the vibro-saw and swung it.

  Just in time.

  Pieces of vine fell at his feet. To his side, Jia’s limp corpse went sliding off through the mud, dragged towards the flames. Where Li was, he didn’t know.

  Hopes dashed make for especially potent despair. He felt the light fade from his soul. He kept fighting, but he knew then that he no longer believed he would live.

  It’s like they planned it. Like they’re coordinated.

  They’re plants.

  He was desperately swinging the vibro-saw when he felt the heat. Heat far greater than Luanyuan’s sweltering atmosphere. Burning heat.

  To his right an immense torrent of flame burst forward. The vines disappeared into the swirling inferno. Then it passed. He saw them, blackened, but still moving. But a second eruption of flame came, and when it too subsided the ashen remnants fell to the ground.

  He turned and saw two figures walking toward him.

  Gao Yunqi’s glasses reflected the dancing light of the flames.

  Behind him was Deng Weiren.

  “Where’s Jia Hongmei?” yelled Gao.

  Swallowing, his skin still feeling the lingering sensation of the colossal heat of the flame thrower, Jiwen shook his head.

  “The vines…” he managed, his mind still processing the cavalcade of events.

  Gao scowled.

  “We were too slow,” he murmured to Deng.

  He paused only a moment, then said to Jiwen, “That ought to hold them for now. Come with me. Deng, stay here with—”

  He pointed at the other man who replied, “Li Zichuan.”

  “Stay here with Li. Make sure that’s actually it.”

  Jiwen was even less ready to believe that that was it this time. But Gao spoke in a tone that made it clear he would brook no argument.

  “C’mon,” he demanded. “A lot has happened.”

  It was only now that Jiwen saw that he was carrying a pistol.

  When Kal returned, he was not alone.

  Two convicts were with him. They were carrying what looked like simple spears. Kal’s face was grim.

  “Come,” he said to Nova and Harry.

  “What’s happening?” asked Nova.

  “You’ll see,” said Kal. There was clearly more he wanted to say.

  Nova looked between the two convicts with their spears. They had a grim determination on their faces, but she thought she could see nervousness there too.

  Questions swirled through her mind, disjointed and chaotic, the answers to each blurring into the next.

  She looked Harry’s way. To the untrained eye he appeared calm, but Nova knew him well enough to know that it was a fa?ade.

  Are we too late? Did we miss our chance to escape? What’s happening?

  There was nothing for it though. They followed Kal and the two armed convicts. She watched them from behind. She doubted they could beat Kal, even with him unarmed. If Kal wasn’t resisting, there was a reason. She had to trust his judgement.

  As they walked, she noticed the glow of flames in multiple directions, in keen defiance of the steady falling of the rain.

  They reached the centre of the village and were led inside the hall. There was a crowd there.

  The Leadership Committee was there. So was Ma Jinhai. Fu Yuanjing too.

  Notably absent, though, was the Commandant.

  Lieutenant Liao was there though, along with another guard.

  A hazy picture began to form in Nova’s mind. For the two guards were unarmed and bound, more spear-wielding convicts flanking them.

  And at the centre of the whole assembly, near to the bound guards, was Gao Yunqi. Only he wasn’t carrying a spear – he was carrying a pistol. And the two convicts flanking him were carrying assault rifles. Off to one side was a third, with what Nova took to be a flamethrower.

  Michael Arthur, Zhang Jiwen, and Li Shulin stood before Gao, facing him. Everyone was soaked, filthy.

  “I think everyone’s here now,” said Gao, surveying the crowd. His expression was one of supreme self-satisfaction. The manner in which he carried himself conveyed a sense of being electrified by the moment.

  Nova glanced over at Kal and Harry. Harry’s eyes were locked on Gao, but Kal’s were darting about, taking in every detail of the assembled crowd.

  “We have taken a necessary step to protect the people of this settlement,” announced Gao.

  Those assembled murmured.

  “Quiet!” demanded Gao, holding up the pistol. “Earlier tonight, a large-scale incursion by the jungle occurred along the length of our perimeter. The Commandant responded and was killed alongside Sergeant Bo Runchu and Guardsman Qin Huiping. Our comrades Li Mingze and Jia Hongmei were also killed during the incursion. With two guards still missing, Lieutenant Liao has recognised that the LPDC guards no longer have the necessary personnel to carry out their duties. Accordingly, I am announcing the formation of a Settlement Defence Committee, with myself as chair.”

  Nova heard a murmur go through the crowd.

  Gao continued.

  “The weapons formerly in the possession of LPDC security have been distributed to the members of this Committee.”

  This elicited shouts of outrage from some of those assembled.

  The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  Ma Jinhai spoke over the others. “You killed them. We see through your lies, Gao.”

  Gao rounded his gaze on the former gangster. “You saw the fires burning, did you not? You saw the breaches in the perimeter? Don’t forget Li Mingze and Jia Hongmei were close friends of mine. They lost their lives, too.”

  “Probably when the guards resisted,” said Ma. “Tell us, Lieutenant, what really happened?”

  Nova saw Lieutenant Liao nervously look from Gao to Ma. “It is as Mr Gao describes,” she finally said.

  “Fucking coward,” snarled Ma. “Why are you bound then?”

  Lieutenant Liao said nothing.

  The crowd was getting more restless. Nova saw a flicker of uncertainty cross Gao’s face. “In the interests of our mutual survival, we ask that all here accept this new arrangement. Without unity, we will perish.”

  “Convenient for you!” yelled someone in Ma’s clique.

  Michael Arthur stepped forward. “Please, everyone. I know these events are shocking, but Mr Gao is not wrong: it is vitally important that we work together. The settlement’s defences have been severely damaged tonight and we must cooperate to restore them. The alternative is death.”

  “We’re all going to die anyway!” came a yell. Nova couldn’t see who had spoken.

  “We are not doomed!” insisted Michael. “We just need to work together. We have lasted this long. I suggest – with Mr Gao’s agreement of course – that we assemble volunteer vine wardens to protect the perimeter for the rest of tonight while everyone else gets some rest. Once everyone is in a better headspace and the sun is up, we can survey the damage and plan our repairs.”

  Gao seemed slightly put out by someone else taking the lead, but he didn’t seem inclined to contradict Michael’s obviously logical statement.

  “For tonight, we will do as Mr Arthur suggests. Tomorrow we will review arrangements going forward,” he declared.

  Nova turned to Harry and Kal. “What do we do?” she whispered.

  Kal moved closer. His eyes remained fixed on Gao. His voice was quiet, but determined. “We leave. Tonight. Nothing’s keeping us here if the Commandant is dead. We’ll talk once this theatre is over.”

  Tavian stepped into the clearing as the sun was lowering in the sky and a storm was brewing, rumbles of meteorological discontent sounding ominously in the distance.

  “There are more flowers than I remember,” he remarked.

  Ostara gave a faint, almost imperceptible smile. “All humanity’s works and pride are undone by nature,” she said, pausing a moment before continuing, “On Luanyuan, though the process is swifter.”

  Mu was behind them. “People survived this?” she said, examining the wreckage.

  “At least one did,” said Tavian.

  “The girl,” said Mu.

  “Aye, the girl,” said Tavian.

  Tavian studied Mu’s face. Some internal struggle was going on.

  “I think I’ve seen this place,” she said.

  “Foreseen?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t know. It’s familiar though.”

  Ostara too seemed deep in thought. “Have you… can you hear anything? From this place?”

  “Hear?” asked Mu, her expression at first appearing puzzled. Then she seemed to understand what it was Ostara was saying. She gave a little nod. “Yes… the girl is here. Toghrul, too.”

  Ostara’s eyes were full of knowing as she observed Mu. After a moment, Tavian looked away, observing the wreckage.

  “There’s no welcoming committee,” he said.

  “They’re inside,” said Mu.

  “Makes sense,” said Tavian. “Should we be worried?”

  “Not immediately,” said Mu.

  “Good enough,” said Tavian, and he began striding toward the wreck.

  He hadn’t been kidding about there being more flowers. Where once the ship had stood out from the ruin of the jungle like a scar in its verdant flesh, now it was almost integrated, coming to seem like a natural feature. Some of the hull was still visible, but its stark metallic sheen was dimmed by the mosses and lichens that already covered much of it, themselves peeping out from beneath a profusion of flowers in many colours and forms.

  When Mu spoke again from behind him, it was like she was giving voice to his thoughts. “It is beautiful.”

  It was. If anything, there were was a far greater array of colour on display across the crashed starship than in the jungle more broadly – in that tangled expanse innumerable shades of green held absolute dominion, pierced only occasionally by a radiant fungus or a smattering of flowers. But here the flowers grew in far greater variety and density. A rainbow.

  Blood of Many Colours.

  “These, ah, these guys gonna chomp us?” asked Tavian as he came to a stop before the ship.

  “No,” said Ostara. “They won’t harm us.”

  “Alrighty,” said Tavian and leapt up onto a flat spot on the hull, from where he could see a crack that led inside.

  Mu and Ostara followed him, their movements nimble and graceful.

  Reaching the crack, Tavian yelled out. “Hello?” he called out. “Anyone home?”

  “You can come in,” announced a small voice from within. It sounded like little more than a child’s. “We’ve been waiting for you.”

  “Ominous,” murmured Tavian, but assured by his companions’ insistence that they faced no immediate danger, he proceeded into the shadowed interior.

  His mind played back the memories of their first visit, trying to recall the layout. But as his eyes adjusted to the dark, he didn’t need the memories to guide him. A singular light emerged from one of the rooms across the corridor from that they had entered.

  Inside he found four figures sitting around a singular portable light. There was Mei Xuelan, appearing far more serene than when Tavian had last seen her. And whether it was a trick played on him by his eyes adapting once more to a change in illumination or not, he did not know, but she seemed to have her own, sheen, her own subtle luminous quality. Her skin too was clean, and her clothes and hair seemed neat, unblemished. She was a far cry from the wild child of the jungle they had once encountered. Her eyes reflected the light, her smile was slight, but had the quality of supreme contentment.

  With her were two of the guards and Toghrul. They too appeared contented, though their clothes bore the signs of the passage of the jungle and its many trials. There was something unfamiliar in Toghrul’s demeanour, his posture, his expression – the very aura he exuded into the world. He had been a troubled, no, broken man, when Tavian last set eyes upon him, someone bent to resignation by the cruelties and indignities of fate, yet now – here sat a different man.

  He glanced at his companions as they came to the threshold of the room, and they too witnessed this scene. He felt a deep unease wash over him when he saw the slightest flicker of change in Mu’s eyes, in her expression. It did not last, but for a moment he saw the same in her as he had seen in Toghrul.

  He was more alarmed though when he turned back and noticed the fifth occupant of the room. Had it been there before? Surely not. Had it simply appeared? Surely not. Something so large, so unnatural could not have escaped his notice though, not in such a small space, even half shrouded in the gloom of the far corner of the room. Even as unmoving as a stone monolith. It could not have escaped his notice.

  Its multiple sets of wings hung unused behind it, folded. Its many limbs – more than he remembered – were held up like the arms of a meditating monk, its legs crossed likewise. And far too many unblinking eyes stared forward, somehow both inanimate, yet deeply aware.

  Xuelan’s smile broadened as she saw that he had noticed it.

  “Xixi has joined us at last!” she announced. “Isn’t it wonderful?”

  It was not wonderful.

  Tavian felt a gentle touch at the small of his back. He heard Ostara’s voice softly speak, “It’s alright.”

  “Join us,” said Xuelan.

  “Please,” said Toghrul, his voice unlike Tavian had so recently heard it. His accent was unchanged, but every ounce of distinct character that had once been audible in that voice, all the complex nuances of the reluctant revolutionary, the brave martyr, the grieving father – none of that was present. Tavian reflected he had seldom heard someone speak in such a way that suggested there was absolutely no private thought nor meaning, nor subtext – at least none apart from the implied, but unspoken ensuing words: “Join us.”

  Tavian entered and he sat down on the floor, folding his legs. Ostara and Mu followed him, taking up spots between him and the guards, each sitting with their legs to one side.

  “Would you like something to drink?” asked Xuelan. She grabbed a metallic jug before her and an unadorned metallic cup, lifting them up in offering.

  “I’m fine,” said Tavian, tapping the flask at his waist.

  “No thank you,” replied Ostara.

  Xuelan just smiled in response, and began pouring. Tavian caught a glimpse of what came out of the jug, flowing slow and viscous into the cup.

  It was not water.

  It shimmered with many colours, the light of the lantern gleaming off it like sunlight on an oil slick.

  Blood of Many Colours.

  “I would like some,” said a voice.

  Tavian knew whose it was, but he didn’t quite want to believe it.

  Yet when he turned, there she was: hand outstretched, ready to receive the iridescent, sanguinary offering.

  “I know,” said Mei Xuelan.

  The crowd disbanded and were ushered back to their dormitories by Gao’s armed clique – all except the volunteers for vine warden duty.

  Back in the dorm, Harry glanced around upon their return to the dormitory.

  “We’re not getting a minder?” he asked.

  Kal grunted. “There’s not enough of them. We’re the least of their problems.”

  “Makes sense.”

  “It won’t last for them,” continued Kal. “Between the vines and Ma, they’ll slip up. But there’s not going to be any winners.”

  “So, what do we do?” asked Nova, her voice thick with a timidity Harry seldom heard. There was nothing boisterous and energetic about her right now.

  “We pack. We get out. We go to the crash site. Find Toghrul and the others,” said Kal. “With the Commandant dead, we probably don’t need to worry much about Toghrul’s chip being activated, so when we’re with the others, we get off-world. Fast.”

  “Sounds good, but while I’m sure you’ve thought of this, something stands out to me,” said Harry. “It’s a big jungle out there, and we have no idea where this crash site is.”

  “Yeah,” agreed Nova, “Tavian and Ostara were the only ones who went last time.”

  Kal seemed unconcerned. Harry was right. He had already thought about this.

  “Zhang Jiwen, the scientist guy knows. We need to get him to be our guide.”

  “Will he leave?” asked Harry, “Seems to me he’s part of the leadership committee, and everything here just went to shit. Isn’t he gonna feel all duty-bound to stay?”

  “Probably,” said Kal, “Which is why we need to convince him that there’s nothing left for him here anymore.”

  “He seems pretty loyal to that Michael guy,” said Nova. “I think Harry might have a point.”

  “They can all come,” said Kal. “We just need to make them face reality. Staying here means waiting to die.”

  “But isn’t Michael like, a hundred years old?” asked Nova. “No way he’s up to a big trek across a jungle, which, let’s not forget, is trying to eat everyone.”

  “I don’t think he’s a hundred, Nova,” said Harry.

  “Super old’s my point.”

  “Die here, die out there. That’s their choice. It’s not one we’re forcing on them, it’s their reality,” said Kal.

  “Sometimes captains want to go down with their ship,” said Harry, “Or so I’ve heard.”

  “Then he can do that,” said Kal, “But lieutenants don’t need to.”

  “I still think they’re gonna feel pretty sketchy about leaving an old man with this pack of… bastards,” said Nova, “Like, I would be all for getting out. I am all for getting out… but I’m just not sure…”

  Kal cut her off. “They don’t have a choice. We don’t have a choice. We convince Zhang. Arthur and the others come or don’t come. But we have to get out. We have to get to the crash site. And that means – hard or not – we have to get through to Zhang.”

  “I could try contacting the others again,” suggested Nova.

  Harry gave a little laugh. “Oh yeah, I can see it now. ‘So, guys, you head out the gate, and then turn left. Keep going till you see the vine winding clockwise around a tree. No! Not anti-clockwise. Then you’ll see another tree, turn right there…’”

  Nova glared at him. “Point taken, Mr Sarcasm.”

  “I like to really illustrate my points,” said Harry.

  “Super helpful.”

  Kal ignored them. “Harry, you go speak to Zhang. You’re… good with words.”

  “Sure,” said Harry, a hand to his chest, “I’ll use my best words.”

  “Oh, and maybe he’s your cousin or something. You’re both called Zhang,” said Nova.

  “Zhang is… one of the most common Shang surnames.”

  “Ya never know,” said Nova.

  “I don’t think he’s my cousin.”

  Nova shrugged.

  Harry took a deep breath. “Oh, and Nova, do you think maybe you should tell Kal what you told me before?”

  Nova took a moment to understand what he meant. “Oh,” she said, her expression once more darkening. Harry could see something about what Apollo had asked was troubling her. It was certainly abrupt, coming from the Captain, but she seemed unduly troubled by it.

  “So,” she began, “The Cap told me that we had to protect the girl at the crashed starship.”

  Kal took this in his stride. “Fine,” he said simply.

  Harry guessed questioning orders wasn’t his style.

  “He said it was more important than getting Toghrul.”

  Kal just nodded. “If that’s what the Captain says. Either way, the crash site is our destination.”

  “Okay…” said Harry, “Well, I guess that is that. I’ll go try and talk to Zhang. You two hang tight. My stuff’s already good to go, once we are.”

  “I want to leave tonight,” said Kal.

  “Understood, Big Guy,” said Harry. “I’ll do my best. Work my magic.”

  Nova seemed to be about to say something more when, unannounced, a guard entered the dormitory, flinging open the door, sending raindrops cascading in from outside.

  “Mechanic,” he said, “Comrade Gao requires you. The secondary filtration system is down.”

  “Oh, for fuck’s sake!” exclaimed Nova. “Can I ever escape this damn thing?”

  “It’s your baby now,” said Harry.

  “The Amrita’s my baby,” said Nova, “These things are just pains in my arse.”

  “Come quickly,” said the guard.

  “I’m coming, I’m coming,” said Nova, dallying as she walked across the dorm to where the guard stood among the intruding rain.

  This is gonna interfere with the plan, thought Harry, his mind rushing through options.

  But, as Nova passed him, she gave him the slightest of reassuring nods.

  Does she have a plan? he wondered.

  In a moment, both she and the guard were gone. The door closed behind them, the sound of the storm diminishing slightly once more.

  Harry turned back to Kal.

  “That could be an issue, right?”

  Kal’s brow was furrowed with focus. By way of reply, he offered only a noncommittal grunt.

  The rain pounded on the roof.

  “Should I get going and leave it to you?” he asked.

  Kal was still deep in thought. Then he nodded.

  At that moment the sounds of the storm picked up once more. Harry felt a stray droplet of rain splattered against his cheek. Nova re-entered.

  “Left my tools behind!” she declared in an unnecessarily loud voice.

  Harry saw the figure of the guard behind her for a moment before she shut the door. She walked with a hurried pace, and when she next spoke, her voice was more hushed.

  “What do we do?”

  “I thought that nod meant you had a plan,” said Harry.

  “Yeah, I did: to come back in here without the guard present so I could hear what the plan was,” she snapped back.

  “Right,” said Harry.

  “Grab your tools, go with them. We don’t want anyone getting suspicious of us and interfering. Harry, you go talk to Zhang. You tell me once he’s on board. We will fetch Nova then, and get the fuck out of here.”

  Nova flashed a thumbs up, then grabbed a rucksack that made a clanking sound when she picked it up.

  “Got ‘em!” she said, once again speaking unnecessarily loudly. “Just don’t leave me hanging. These convicts are making me nervous,” she said, softly once more.

  “It’s all about speed now,” Kal reassured her.

  With that she was gone into the dark and stormy remnants of the night.

  The fear was palpable.

  Pu Mengqi could feel it all about her, as she looked about the faces of those huddled in the dormitory.

  The storm was passing now, the thunder receding into the distance, rolling away to some distant swathe of the endless jungles. The rain, though, descended from above ceaselessly, its drumming on the roof the soundtrack behind the words those huddled and fearful people now listened intently to.

  For fear did not have undisputed dominion here.

  There was hope too.

  Few present had slept much, and the night was drawing ever closer to the dawn, but instead of sleeping, they listened. Listened as Fu Yuanjing spoke.

  “The Stars do not demand subservience,” said Fu. “They offer us many paths forward, and trust that we will take the path into their Divine Light. This is why the Long Road of Nara Enduri, of which the Aixin speak, is false. No, the Nine Suns offer us many ways forward, and they aid us in making our choice. They show us what each path entails: thus does the jungle contain the horror of the vines, but also the blessing of the Eutric Blood.”

  The Blood. Pu’s mind had dwelled on it more and more in recent days. She wondered what it tasted like. Wondered how it felt as it flooded through your body. In her dreams it drizzled from the heavens and emerged as sap from the trees and the vines, the nectar of the flowers, the water of the wide river.

  She longed for something she had never tasted.

  And she knew she wasn’t alone.

  Eutric Blood.

  Blood of Many Colours.

  Please, she thought, Let it be mine.

  Master Fu was wise. She knew this. She knew many things that others did not.

  “There are those who seek to divide us, fighting over this pitiful and cruel piece of jungle. The Commandant, through his obstinate refusal of the boons of Faith was rewarded. So, too shall be the reward for others, if they do not come to the Light. But all of you here do not need to suffer so cruelly. You do not need to suffer at all.”

  Pu saw the armed guard Gao had posted to the dormitory shuffle uneasily, listening to these words.

  Master Fu must have noticed, for she turned towards the guard. “My friend, you too need not bear arms against your comrades. The Blood of the Eutria is plentiful. The Stars provide, they can nourish us all. We need only cast aside these petty conflicts, and take what is gifted to us by the Divine.”

  The guard said nothing, but his fingers moved nervously as they gripped the assault rifle in his hands.

  “We need not live in fear and hunger,” said Fu, her beatific smile beaming out to each and every occupant of the dorm, her kind eyes seeming to address each person individually.

  The preacher closed her eyes, breathing in deeply. She took in a deep and satisfied breath. All waited upon her next words, the momentary silence stretching out.

  Her eyes fluttered open.

  “I know many of you have long doubted me, I am not blind to that,” she said, “Nor do I condemn you for it. There are many who seek to cloud our vision, to usher us onto the false paths. This Empire of Lies, beholden to the False God, Nara Enduri, strives with all its might to dim the light of the Nine, yet they shine on regardless, bearing as they do the indomitable Flame of the Unborn Emperor. Perhaps my words seem strange, perhaps they seem abstract. Perhaps they seem at odds with what your mothers and fathers, and schools, and government have told you. Yet I do not seek to speak in riddles, nor in the twisted fashion of the politicians, no, I wish to speak as plainly as I can about what the Stars offer us. I want to show you Their Light. If that opens me to ridicule, so be it. I am but a humble servant.”

  For Pu Mengqi, it didn’t truthfully matter what it all meant. She was resigned to the fact she would always be a follower. But Master Fu offered something no other leader did: she offered a personal message of hope. No other authority had ever given that to Pu. None of them had ever cared what happened to her. And the Empire had sent her here. To the place farthest from hope in all the Cosmos, or at least that was how it seemed to Pu. She had tried to live a good life, yet she had ended up here.

  Master Fu, though – she said things would be better. And all that was needed was to believe. She said the Cosmos itself was looking after each and every person, even people like Pu. And all that was needed was to believe.

  So, she believed.

  The door to the dorm opened and there stood the poor young boy. Cheng Xiaoyu. He looked distressed. And with dawning horror Pu saw that he was covered in blood.

  For a moment she thought she saw a note of concern flicker across Fu Yuanjing’s face, but then it was gone. The Master rushed over, wrapping the boy in her arms, even as the guard seemed frozen by indecision about this sudden, bloody intrusion.

  Fu looked over her shoulder, “This poor boy needs help. Mrs Pu, come with me. We shall tend to him.”

  The guard regained his voice, “What has happened? I will need—”

  Fu was not loud when she cut him off, but she flashed a rare look of anger his way. “Please, have you no heart? He is in pain! Let us tend to him first, then perhaps, when he is rested, you can ask him your questions. It has been a cruel night for all.”

  With that she ushered the boy away to an empty bunk, hidden from the assembled group by a flimsy wooden divide. Pu followed.

  They sat young Xiaoyu down. Pu could see he was crying, wracked by sobs.

  “How are you hurt?” she asked, her voice thick with concern.

  He shook his head.

  “What do you--?”

  “Shh,” said Fu, gently. “Let him speak when he is ready. Be calm, my child.”

  The boy did his best. When he spoke, his voice was barely more than a trembling whisper. “I’m not hurt,” he said.

  “But the blood…? Whose…?”

  The boy looked up at Fu Yuanjing’s smiling, saintly face.

  “I did what you told me to do, Master,” he said.

  As the storm raged overhead, Mu lay reading in a corner of the room. Her eyes were scanning the words on the tablet, but her mind was elsewhere.

  She replayed the events.

  Tavian and Ostara had stopped her.

  Stopped her drinking the Blood.

  Mei Xuelan had seemed unconcerned. “Whenever you are ready, Xixi can provide.”

  She was at war with herself. She wanted to partake of the Blood. But she disliked that desire. And she knew Tavian and Ostara were not acting in cruelty.

  She was angry with them though.

  She could hear voices from elsewhere in the ship, only barely audible over the sounds of the storm. Vaguely she could distinguish those of Tavian and Ostara, though their words were unclear, their words softly spoken.

  Normally, she would have sat with them. Now, however, it felt as if a great gulf had opened. Did they not feel it too? Nova understood, even though she had not tasted the Blood. Did they think themselves superior, having not felt the desire?

  Mu knew she was being unreasonable. Yet, in truth, she didn’t care. Her mind now dwelt on little aside from the Blood.

  She sighed deeply, casting her eyes about the room - a room in which she now realised she was not alone. Silent and unmoving in the shadows at the edge of the room loomed Xixi, countless eyes watching her.

  She turned back to her tablet.

  At some point she drifted away into sleep.

  When she awoke Ostara knelt by her side. She had a cup in her hands.

  “Drink,” she said.

  Mu was confused, but she saw what was in the cup. Blood of Many Colours.

  “I thought--?”

  “It’s alright,” said Ostara, her tone kindly and reassuring.

  Mu sipped tentatively at first. Then she drunk the rest all in one gulp.

  It was different somehow to how she remembered it.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  “You should sleep,” said Ostara. “You will need strength.”

  Mu did just as she was told. For once in her life sleep came easy to her at precisely the moment she sought it.

  Bees buzzed about her. She saw with the eyes of many, spoke with many voices.

  But she saw something ominous between the trees.

  An arrogant and cold figure.

  Her father.

  “Remember your lessons,” he said.

  She awoke.

  It was morning.

  Nova wasn’t even sure what to feel anymore. Afraid? Angry? Exhausted?

  She trudged through the dark and the mud. Oh, to be back aboard the Amrita. How she would treasure her bed, her shower… Charlie… videogames…

  She looked around and cursed the jungle.

  It did not reply.

  But she heard other voices. Human voices.

  She halted, eyes probing the dark, searching for the source. Gruff male voices, crude words.

  Unkind.

  “Hurry up, idiots,” said one. “The sun will be up soon. It’s now or never. We’ve got to catch them unawares.”

  The voices drew closer.

  There was nowhere for Nova to hide.

  They saw her, because of course they did. They had lights. She had a light. And she had frozen, too slow to shut it off.

  Where’s that guard? she wondered. He had said he would be back to check on her progress soon.

  She wished he was still with her.

  The three men that now came toward her were carrying vibro-saws. By their demeanour, their tattoos, their bald heads, she knew they were Ma’s men.

  “What we got here?” said one, when first his eyes fell upon Nova.

  She glanced around. Was the guard close? Could she shout out?

  “Don’t do anything rash,” said the lead man. “You armed?”

  Nova thought about lying, but there was no point. Wordlessly, feeling a pang of fear, she shook her head.

  “Good,” said the man. “Better for you that way.”

  “Probably,” said another, with a cruel chuckle.

  “I didn’t hear much,” said Nova.

  That fucking filtration system. Twice I’ve heard what I wasn’t meant to going to or from it.

  “But you probably heard enough,” said the first man. “You must be a smart one, right? You know how to fix all these machines, right?”

  “Er…” said Nova, wondering where this was leading.

  “Smart enough to work out the rest from what you heard, I’ll bet,” said the third man.

  “Really, I didn’t hear much. I don’t care about any of this. I’m just a visitor,” said Nova. “We’ll be gone soon.”

  “You lot have been pretty close with the leadership committee and Gao, right?”

  “Not really.”

  “Don’t lie. Won’t do you any good.”

  The men drew closer, standing on three sides of her. They were much bigger than her, looking down on her from above. She glanced nervously at the vibro-saws each had.

  “We don’t have much time,” said one. “So, we have to work out what to do with you.”

  Nova’s mind raced. “Tie me up,” she said, raising her hands in a gesture of surrender. “Put me somewhere aside. Once you’ve done what you have to, let me go. I can’t interfere with your plans then.”

  The first man gave an exaggerated impression of considering her proposal. “We could do that…”

  The second man now spoke up, “She’s a pretty one, ain’t she?”

  A knot formed in Nova’s stomach.

  “We don’t have time,” snapped the third man.

  “Don’t need much,” said the second, a lascivious grin forming on his face.

  “Telling on yourself there,” said the first man, with a laugh.

  “I can hurry things up when I need to,” replied the second.

  “She is a looker…” murmured the first man.

  The third seemed to be coming around. “Why don’t we do as she said. Let’s put her aside for now. There’ll be plenty of time for fun when Ma’s Boss.”

  The first man nodded slowly.

  Nova had little time to react. Rough, powerful arms grabbed her own, pinning them behind her.

  She went to scream.

  But a calloused hand was already covering her mouth.