stride. The blonde’s face is pinched, but the look disappears quickly. Ajita catches up and falls in step with Yallie once more.
“Fine,” she answers.
Ajita hums in response too, but only because she doesn’t know what to say. They walk to the science kiosk in silence and Ajita tries to conjure the carefree, bursting feeling from earlier.
“Are we going to paint again today?” Ajita asks.
Clink. The door opens and they go to the kiosk.
“Perhaps later. I was doing more research on your star bear,” Yallie says and starts up the kiosk.
Ajita likes the sound of ‘star bear’ and sits down next to Yallie feeling better because Yallie had been thinking of Rasjaurom and Ajita all day. She hums again, meaning it this time. Yallie quirks an eyebrow in her direction. Ajita shrugs her shoulders, can’t resist that bursting feeling, and Yallie just shakes her head, causing her curly bangs to bounce over her forehead.
Ajita laughs, doesn’t hide it, and Yallie huffs, feigning impatience.
“Contain yourself,” Yallie says, lips curving.
Large pieces of text dominate the room and Yallie goes through them, explaining, “I wondered if your star bear was part of an old star chart. So I looked through star charts, starting with the ones we use now, and going through earlier versions. I ended up reading about the history of star charts. Older star charts were used for navigation as well, but were not as precise and accurate as those we have today. While they did include astronomical objects like planets and galaxies, the charters also included something of their own machination.”
She pulls up another piece of text, “These were asterisms, also known as constellations. They were created and charted by visualizing a pattern in stars that had apparent proximity to each other. Such patterns differed throughout the ages, but there used to be a listing of eighty-eight standardized asterisms, and included patterns like a scorpion, swan…and your bear.”
“Visuals?” Ajita asks.
She tries to picture Rasjaurom being charted by ancient inhabitants, being visualized and created by the imaginations of primordial navigators and charters.
Yallie nods at her request, queuing up images without fuss. Some of the star charts are dark blue, with various sized dots and rigid white lines; others are done on a white canvas, with bulky black dots and lines representing the stars and constellations. A few are colorful and contain figures of people and animals. None of them are multi-dimensional like their star charts; they are simply flat. Unchangeable. Most of the symbols and writing are unfamiliar to her, but she can still recognize the stars.
“They are works of art,” she says.
“Mmm,” Yallie says, “and not entirely helpful.”
“Well not to us,” Ajita corrects, “but to whoever created them.”
She takes the pointer from Yallie and goes through the images, positioning them so she can see Rasjaurom, the star bear. He looks mighty and beautiful in all of them, even on charts that don’t outline his figure or draw lines connecting the stars. She tries to memorize the seven stars, and wishes she could see them with her own two eyes. She flips to another image…and freezes.
Her dream flashes through her mind, the whipwhipwhip of the grass, the hum of the insects, and the steady and strong footsteps of the three hunters. Within a blink the flashback in gone and she is left staring at the eerily familiar star chart. Rasjaurom looks over his shoulder at three stars behind him, which are depicted as three men who carry various items: a bow and arrow, a pot, and a pile of firewood.
She backs up in her seat and looks away from the image.
“Could we plot the constellations on our star chart?” Ajita asks.
She hands off the pointer to Yallie, and stills the shaking in her hands. Yallie cocks her head to the side and Ajita does her best to shrug off her queasiness.
“I will try,” Yallie says.
Yallie clears the images and text and clicks through settings on the kiosk. Soon the entire room is filled with a dark blue hue and the rest of the lights dim. Ajita relaxes as it grows dark. With another click, stars fill the room, growing brighter as they hover in the gloom. Their Numerical Designations float beside their forms. Once they are surrounded by stars, Ajita stands up.
She spins around and stars fly over her body as she moves through them. Spreading her arms out, she opens her eyes wide and tilts her head back, and pretends she is drifting through the stars. A laugh disturbs her from her fantasy, and she turns around to find Yallie by her side. Stars dot Yallie’s body and gleam in her eyes.
Ajita reaches up with a finger and touches one of the stars that rests on Yallie’s cheek, “You are so strange.”
“So are you,” Yallie replies.
Ajita takes Yallie’s hands and with a tug, spins them though the stars. She makes Yallie laugh again, and marvels at how light she feels, as if she could really float up into the night sky. She wonders if Yallie feels it too.
“I want to live with the stars,” Ajita says.
Yallie snorts, “You’re completely illogical.”
“You have to live there with me,” Ajita declares, wanting Yallie to promise, hoping she does.
“I already am. Look where we are,” Yallie replies, and this time she’s the one guiding the spin.
With a bright spark, lines start forming between the stars, spreading from one to the other. Their spinning slows, and Yallie leans in close as if divulging a secret. Her eyes are bright with stars and excitement and Ajita wishes she had paint so she could draw them.
“We’re a part of the stars,” Yallie whispers, “we’re all made of the same stuff: starstuff.”
Ajita holds her breath, she’s not sure she understands what Yallie is trying to explain, but her proximity is making her head ring and her blood burn. They stop spinning and the stars are painted over them, the lines continually connecting stars, and the constellations are almost all formed. A line shoots between them, and seven stars brightly glow, and as the Great Bear comes into being around them, Ajita leans forward…
…and places her mouth against Yallie’s.
The Trainee gasps and Ajita feels her warm breath brush against her face. Heat rushes through her body, and she surges forward, prolonging their contact, enjoying the softness of Yallie’s mouth, never knowing that her insides could burn the way they do, that her body could feel such a way. And just a few seconds later, she feels pressure on her lips as Yallie returns the gesture. Ajita raises her trembling hands, and cups Yallie’s face, brushing against the soft hairs on her nape and cheeks.
With a sigh, their lips part, and Rasjaurom is fully formed around them. Ajita still gently holds Yallie’s face in her hands.
“What was that?” Yallie asks, dazed.
Their lips are wet, and their cheeks are flushed, and Ajita can’t believe that they don’t learn about this in School. This is a topic that is relevant to her interests.
“A kiss,” she says, the word coming unbidden to her mind.
“A kiss,” Yallie slowly repeats, and Ajita curls her toes, because Yallie has that look on her face that means she’s going to go straight to the kiosk and research it.
“Yes. We kiss on the mouth,” she’s sure she must have learnt this in her dreams.
“Why mouths?”
“It is where we draw breath,” is her best explanation.
Yallie leans forward, “You also breathe through your nose.”
She bumps her nose against Ajita’s briefly.
“But we also consume sustenance through our mouths,” Ajita says, and Yallie is still close, enough so that she can feel her warm breath on her cheeks.
“Sustenance,” Yalli repeats, and her eyes immediately fly to Ajita’s mouth, “so when you kiss a person, you are saying they are your sustenance.”
“Yes.”
“Ah— it is a metaphor,” her eyes brighten up as they always do when she figures something out.
“Yes,” Ajita whispers, though she has no idea if Y
allie is right or not.
They lay on the floor, their hands intertwined, and their gazes are on the stars surrounding them. Ajita remembers the villages, and how the stars were visible from huts and bed rolls. She thinks this is just as good. The stars slowly rotate around them and Ajita points out various constellations as they become visible.
“I wish we could see the stars from the Observation Hall,” she says longingly.
Yallie nods.
“It’s always so cloudy,” Ajita murmurs, “Do you know why?”
Yallie’s gaze flicks towards her and away again, “They are clouds of pollution.”
“Pollution? What is that?”
“Pollution is something that is bad for a planet and upsets its natural balance.”
That doesn’t sound good at all, Ajita thinks, with ice in her heart.
“How did the pollution get here?”
“It was created by the inhabitants.”
“How?”
“Through warfare, mainly.”
The word is foreign to her, “Is that something we did?”
“Not us, not the School,” Yallie says defensively, and then shoots a glare at Ajita.
Her breath quickens as she thinks of the village and the monastery, “There are other people outside of School then?”
“No,” Yallie says, and her jaw is tight.
“Oh. Is pollution reversible?”
“That remains to be seen,” Yallie says cryptically.
She wonders what she said to make Yallie angry, to make her close up. She silently thinks for something to say, something to ease the tension in Yallie’s shoulders. Glancing up at the stars, inspiration from their previous conversation strikes her.
“What is starstuff?” she asks.
Yallie takes a deep breath and releases it, as if consciously letting go of her irritation. Her entire face relaxes and Ajita instantly feels more at ease.
“Do you know how we came to be?” Yallie asks.
Ajita shakes her head.
“When older stars die the dust they leave behind eventually combines with other interstellar gas and debris; these dust clouds become the birthplace of a new generation of stars and planets. So you see, the stuff we’re made of, the stuff this planet is made of, is starstuff. It’s been recycled over and over again and will be used in the future. In a way, it’s like we never die. We just become something new.”
Ajita wonders if her glimpses of foreign lands and people come from these ancient suns and planets. She presses her face against Yallie’s shoulder, and can imagine where the fabric of her shirt came from, what her pale skin is made of. Starstuff. From across a thousand galaxies. Ajita’s body tingles, but she’s not sure if it’s with excitement or fear.
“Do we even matter?” Ajita whispers into Yallie’s shirt.
Yallie frowns, “Matter? To whom?”
“To the Universe.”
“Well of course,” Yallie says, “we are part of the Universe, are we not? Our current forms may be a small piece of the whole, but we are indeed a piece.”
“Do we matter a whole lot?”
“Matter is never destroyed, it is simply rearranged. So our particles are part of all that has been and all that will be. I would say that is pretty important. If you were a Universe, would you ever want to be missing any of your particles?”
“I should think not.”
“Therefore, we are important.”
“Because the Universe would be missing us if we went missing?”
“Because the Universe would be incomplete otherwise,” Yallie sits up, shaking her head so her curls fall back in place.
“Well, if I were a Universe there would certainly be some particles I’d miss more than others.”
“It is good thing you aren’t a Universe then, isn’t it?” Yallie says, her lips curved.
Ajita has to bite her to lip to keep from speaking. It’s easy talking to Yallie, but there are some things that possibly should not be spoken of. I think I have a good idea about being a Universe, she would say, I have dreams.
“I would like to see the rest of the Universe,” she