220 - The Rainbow Connection

The Trio’s reality bubble merges with a congeries of larger such bubbles, floating in the vastness of interstellar consciousness.

In human language, this station is known as the Orion Schema. It oversees Concordance activities throughout nearby space - a radius of perhaps 3,000 light years’ distance. In this place between both stars and souls, thought is at a low density - a single quale per cubic centimeter. If one bent a good enough telescope toward Earth from the Schema, they could watch moments from the Early Medieval period playing out. But all such influences are far away, allowing the Concordance’s emotional energies to operate unimpeded.

Concordance warriors are trained here. Psycho-astronomers listen to the eons-long mutterings of stars through telepathic telescopes. Alien artists have their residence in some of the outlying bubbles, creating new and original works by sculpting gamma-ray bursts. Most importantly of all, prisoners and repossessed artifacts can be taken here, to be kept secure.


“We’re not taking her,” the warden explains.

“But this is a Void Shadow agent,” protests Honesty. “She’s dangerous.”

“She appears to be safely confined, and not resisting,” the warden observes. Jordan, meanwhile, is pounding and kicking the inside of her personal bubble.

“She’s being remanded for Tribunal,” points out Compassion. “Shouldn’t we be following protocol?”

“Listen, you three are new, so I guess I have to explain this.” The warden shrugs his shoulders and sighs - newbies! - and settles into his office chair. “We’re keeping Karkath the Moon Eater here. This is taking up 83% of our isolation capacity just by itself. The rest of the cells are holding unvetted refugees from Rigel and surrounding stars, or actual criminals like Zaxelis, Kwa Benga, or Om the Face Flenser.”

The warden glances at the holographic manifest the Trio provided. “Whereas this is… Jordan Amari, aka Princess Peri, a young child from your planet.” He looks up, aiming a withering stare at the three. “I can make room, but I’ll be adding a note that you three are so incompetent that you can’t look after an alien child yourselves. You want that on your record?”

The three look at each other, visibly uncomfortable. “No, it’s fine,” says Valor at last. “We’ll put her up in our quarters or something, until Tribunal.”

The warden leans back in his chair. “Glad you see it that way. Now scram.”

Inside her bubble, Jordan smirks in vicarious victory.


Valor is the first to play host to Jordan. The Trio split up at a junction within the Schema’s residential area, and Valor escorts Jordan’s bubble down a passageway and through an apparently solid wall.

Beyond the wall is an apartment of sorts. Jordan recognizes most of this stuff. It looks like Earth furniture, but … weird? Wrong? Like how someone imagines an apartment is supposed to look, but they got a lot of little details wrong?

Jordan watches the weirdo Agent do something with some kinda floaty light thing. “Security parameters established,” comes a voice. Then two things happen. First, the bubble around Jordan pops, plopping her on the carpeted floor. Second, the Agent armor disappears, leaving a young human woman behind.

“Bathroom’s that way,” she says, pointing.

Jordan, scowling, goes that way. When she comes back, she’s stomping, fists curled angrily.

“Take me back to Adam!” she demands.

“No,” says Valor. She shrugs, and flops down on a purple polka-dotted couch.

Jordan rushes her, fists swinging. Valor takes the hit without flinching, then pulls Jordan into an uncomfortable head-lock.

“Do that again and I’ll twist your head off your neck,” she mutters.

Jordan struggles, but knows the battle is lost. “You suck!” she shouts.

“Yeah, I know.” Valor releases the lock, and lets Jordan stumble away.

Jordan takes a moment to regain her poise. “Why are you three doin’ this?”

Valor shrugs again, but doesn’t seem interested in elaborating.

Jordan tries going back through the wall, but it’s as solid as one would expect. “How’d you do that?”

“What?” asks Valor, without looking up from the couch.

“Go through the wall!”

“Dunno. Concordance magic.”

“What’d you do with Anty?”

“Auntie?”

“Anty! My voice.”

Valor pauses. “Oh. Your shard. It’s sealed.”

“Well unseal it! I wanna talk to Anty.”

“No.”

“Rrrrrraargh!”

Valor snorts. “You’re a pain.”

Jordan changes tactics. “Adam’ll come for me! He’s gonna make you sorry!”

“I’m sorry already. Now shut up.”


“I’m bored,” announces Jordan.

Valor does nothing.

“Gimme a book.”

Nothing.

“Lemme watch Disney.”

Nothing.

“I’m hungry.”

“Starve.”

“I’m dyin’ of hunger!”

“Perish.”

Jordan stamps her feet. “You’re stupid! Stupid stupid stupid.”

Valor has been laying on the couch, arms folded behind her head, legs crossed. Now she sits up. “You shouldn’t say stupid.”

“Well ya are!”

“Nah. I mean, it’s a bad word.”

Jordan’s confused by that. “Well yeah, tha’s why I said it. Not gonna call you good words.”

Valor sighs. “Listen. There’s people with learning disabilities or mental issues. They have trouble reading. Thinking. Understanding people. Whatever. But people called them ‘retard’ or ‘stupid’ or ‘spaz’ or ‘crazy’ or ‘insane’. They make up words to hurt someone for something that’s not their fault. And it’s hurtful to call other people that, because you’re saying ‘you are no better than someone with a mental disability, and that is bad’. You see how that’s bad, don’t you?”

Jordan has heard something like this before, but isn’t sure she got it at the time. “So I just gotta call you somethin’ else?”

“Yeah, go ahead.”

“Like what?”

Valor shrugs helplessly. “Annoying. Obnoxious. Uncool. Dorky. Whatever.”

Jordan takes this to heart. “Okay. Well… you… you took me away from Adam, so you’re super dorky!”

“I can live with that,” says Valor, rising from the couch. “Maybe shoving food in your mouth will shut you up. Come on, I’ll make sandwiches.”

Jordan is on board with sandwiches but is still pretty pissed off. “I won’t talk with my mouth full, but after that, no promises!” she declares.

“Fine.”

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