“I’m not your grandfather,” she finally said.
“Grandpa yelled a lot. And he hit things.”
“Yes, he did.”
Andrew nodded. Lucy put her broom down, wiped her eyes, then stretched out her hands.
“O-kay. Let’s see what we have to work with.”
As they examined the violin, Andrew Matía thought of all the times he had heard of “the hands of the Matías.”
And how only now did he think he might want to possess them, as well.
* * *
The girl smelled like baby powder and liked apple fritters. Her name was Arlene Herrera, and instead of using the drive-through, she always came inside.
Of course the body Markus Tran was in would blush every time.
Of course Arlene Herrera would have a boyfriend. And, of course that boyfriend would be an asshole.
Usually the asshole would wait in the car. But tonight, the asshole came inside with her. And when the baby powder girl got her fritter, instead of hearing her “thank you!” and seeing her smile, the asshole took the bag, dropped a couple of dollar bills and some coins on the counter, and glared.
“Stay away from her, gook,” he said.
And Markus realized he had had enough.
“Fuck you.”
“What did you say?”
Markus clenched his fists. He was an Imperial citizen. His father was a general in the Imperial Army! Markus remembered standing beside him, with a universe to reclaim before them, sailing proudly in the currents of space.
Why was he taking shit from backward shits who had never even left their shitstain planet?
Markus reached under the counter. He would show this asshole the wrath of the Empire.
“Markus. Stop,” his captain said.
Suddenly, Markus could not move.
“Markus,” the voice repeated, more flatly this time. “Markus, please help your sister.”
“That’s right. Go help your sister,” the asshole said.
Helplessly, Markus watched them leave the shop, laughing. He looked out into the sky. He could not even see his home.
What had Markus been thinking?
Once again, Lan replayed the scene in her mind. There was no doubt; Markus had been reaching for the blaster they kept under the counter. Had she not intervened, what would her son have done to that Earth couple?
Perhaps it was being confined to this planet. Or that he was becoming a young man.
No. People had been confined to planets before. They passed through adolescence without attempting murder. It could only be one thing. Could they have carried the Endplague with them? She and Shirley had screened everyone, but there was always the chance they had been asymptomatic.
And there was yet another, more terrifying possibility. What if they had not escaped at all? What if the Endplague had already been here? What if it had already driven this culture insane?
After all, the Endplague affected different cultures in different ways. What if this culture was not primitive, but degenerate? Their certain-death games, their mind-numbingly trivial communications, Shizuka’s inexplicably contradictory behavior …
What else could explain what she was witnessing? Lan needed more information.
She glanced at her phone. Good. More information would be coming shortly.
“Mother. I’ve returned.”
“Shirley, you were gone for quite some time.”
“I apologize, Mother. I will work an extra shift.”
“No, that’s not what I meant. Were you able to assess Katrina’s condition?”
Shirley paused. “I have not finished my analysis. This is a surprisingly complex planet, Mother.”
Complex? At least that was better than degenerate. Lan handed Shirley a rag, and the two of them began wiping tables.
“So, what do I need to know?”
They talked and cleaned, and after the tables were wiped and the floor was mopped, Shirley and her mother started on the windows. And even when the shop was spotless, there was so much more that Lan Tran felt she needed to hear.
* * *
Shizuka was reviewing video from morning lessons when Astrid tapped on her door.
“Miss Satomi? You have a visitor.”
As Shizuka walked to the living room, the visitor saw her, stood up immediately, and bowed.
“Shizuka,” Lan said. “I should not have assumed so much about you.”
“You wouldn’t have needed to assume if you’d just paid attention.”
Lan nodded.
“You are right. Would it be possible to forgive me?”
“Would it be possible to hear an apology?”
“I apologize!” Lan bowed again, this time at a ninety-degree angle.