(A/N: The beginning blurb for this chapter accidentally got stuck into the last chapter with the other one; I moved it here where it belongs. So if it looks familiar, that's why!)
/CIA Directorate of Science and Technology, Internal Memo RE: UB-001/25.06.98: Reports from the Max Planck Institute for Extraterrestrial Physics have been confirmed by outside source. Synchrotron radiation, normally emitted supermassive black holes and pulsar wind nebulae, was detected from object UB-001 at approximately 13:05:34 (UTC+00:00), lasting for 5.467ms, 36 minutes following the bombing at Canary Wharf. This significance of this phenomenon, or its relationship to the terrorist attack, is under investigation by British intelligence, with promises to share all pertinent findings./
Tian made it home from wushu practice well before the sun went down. Even so, blue-shirted policemen were already starting to patrol the streets; one of them gave him a stern look as he ran by, but didn't try and stop him. There was still plenty of time before the curfew.
"I'm home!" he announced as soon as he pushed open the door, dumping his school bag onto the floor by the entryway.
"Hi sweetie," Mother called from the kitchen.
Tian walked in to find her stirring a large pot of soup. "That smells good - can I have a taste?"
She shooed him away from the pot. "Not until your sister gets home."
That knot of guilt was back. He wondered if Xing was still angry with him. "Is Dad home?" He only asked the question to distract himself from the thought of his sister being upset; if Father was home, he'd be here in the kitchen, helping Mother.
As expected, Mother shook her head, and gave him a sad smile. "He was asked to cover Professor Chuang's class tonight; apparently the man never showed up to work today - didn't even call in sick. But he said to tell you that you can stargaze together tomorrow night."
Tian forced himself to return Mother's smile. The day was just getting more and more disappointing.
He was about to turn to go sit at the little table and wait, when Mother twisted the knob on the stove and a great blue spark arced out of it; Mother let out a startled yelp.
"Mom! Are you alright?"
"Fine," she said, shaking her hand. "This stupid thing - I'll have to call Mr. Pei tomorrow to take another look at it. I wish we had gas like the Xus; at least the burner stayed on this time. I think."
Just as she bent to look under the pot, there was a knock at the front door.
"Keep an eye on this, will you?" Mother asked. Without waiting for an answer, she handed Tian the ladle and left the kitchen.
He peered underneath the large pot; the burner was still red and glowing. That was good - they only had the two, and for some reason when one went out, both did. He dutifully took up stirring the soup as he listened to Mother answer the door.
"Yafang, hi - did their class get out early? Hi, sweetie!" That last was probably directed at Xing; but if she answered, Tian didn't hear it.
"No," Aunt Yafang answered. "Xing wasn't feeling well, so Jiao-tu called me to come pick them up."
"Really? Xing, honey, are you -" Mother paused, then sighed. "Where's Jiao-tu, didn't she want to come up and say hi?"
At that point, Xing walked into the kitchen. "Hey," Tian said. "Are you really sick?" He'd never known her to miss a class before, sick or not. If she was too ill, Mother would practically have to tie her down to keep her at home.
"No," she replied, coming up to stand next to him at the stove. "I'm hungry."
"It's not ready yet - we have to wait for Mom."
A cross look briefly passed over Xing's features, but she didn't say anything. Instead, she went to the table and sat primly. He couldn't tell if her attention was on him or the soup pot; it made him uncomfortable, so he returned to listening in on the conversation outside the room.
"…don't know what the problem is," Aunt was saying. "Anyway, she refused to come up, and I don't want to leave her alone in the car for too long." Then her voice dropped, and Tian had to strain to hear her words over the simmering of the soup. "You heard about Hon Bao? The barber down the street from us?"
"I saw some sort of commotion there on my way to work this morning," Mother said, her voice equally low. "Half a dozen police cars, at least. But I haven't heard what was actually going on."
"I heard that he had some sort of psychotic break - murdered a customer, right in the middle of the store. Then just went right on working as if nothing had happened! When the police showed up, he refused to go with them, and put up such a fight that they finally had to shoot him."
Tian felt a shiver run down his spine. Shot by the police? That sort of thing happened in the movies, not in real life. And Mr. Hon had always seemed like such a nice man; he always gave kids a piece of candy after their haircuts. Was he really dead?
"Oh my god, how sad! How is his wife doing?"
"I don't know; I'm going to stop by and see her tomorrow, poor thing."
"We had two patients arrive in the ER this morning, in a complete stupor," Mother said. "No explanation; one of them had collapsed in the middle of the street. Not unconscious, just completely unresponsive to anything. There's such a strange feeling to the city these days - I don't like it."
"I know - I'm not even sure if it's safe to send the kids to school anymore."
"They'll be as safe at school as anywhere else," Mother said, though she didn't sound convinced.
"You're probably right. Well, I need to get Jiao-tu home - you're all still coming over for dinner Saturday?"
"Yes - see you then."
"Take care, An," Aunt said seriously; then Tian heard Mother shut the door.
She entered the kitchen a moment later. Tian wanted to ask her about what he'd just heard, but he didn't want her to think that he'd been eavesdropping. And in any case, her full attention was on his sister.
Mother folded her arms. "Xing, what on earth did you say to Jiao-tu? Your aunt said she was in tears when she picked you two up!"
Xing looked at their mother blankly. "Say?"
"Yes - you upset her. That isn't like you!"
So she was still in that weird mood, Tian thought. Though it seemed to be getting worse - at least this morning, she'd mostly ignored them all.
Xing appeared to think. "I asked her why she doesn't wear her glasses when she can't see, and why she keeps going to dance class when she isn't any good."
"You said that?" Tian interjected, shocked. "Why would you?"
"I wanted to know." There was a hint of a question in her voice, as if she didn't understand Tian's surprise. It sort of made sense, he supposed - Xing was naturally curious, and never hesitated to ask whatever question happened to pop into her head. But she ought to have known that asking something like that would upset their cousin.
Mother sighed. "Xing, I just don't know what's gotten into you lately. After dinner, I want you to call Jiao-tu and apologize."
"Apologize for what?"
"Apologize for being mean to your cousin!"
"Why?" There was no defiance in her voice; only a sort of bored curiosity.
The ladle jumped from Tian's fingers at the sound of Mother slapping her hand on the counter top. "That's enough! Go to your room!"
Xing didn't budge from her seat. "I want dinner first."
"Xing!" Tian hissed, hoping she would get the hint and stop arguing.
"You can have dinner after you think about how your words hurt your cousin, and are ready to apologize - and mean it!"
Xing's expression slipped into a frown. "Why should I?"
Mother's eyes widened at her tone, and she leaned forward; for a moment Tian thought that she might actually strike her daughter, something he couldn't remember her ever doing before. But instead, she slapped the counter again and snapped, "Because I'm your mother, and I said so! Now go."
Xing didn't answer, but eyed Mother cautiously; then she slid off the chair and walked out of the kitchen. She paused briefly in the doorway, looking back at the stove where Tian still stood rooted to the spot. Then she turned and left.
Mother sighed, rubbing her temple in frustration. "I wish Xinkun was home," she said so softly that Tian almost didn't hear. He didn't think that he was supposed to.
"…Should I go talk to her?" he asked tentatively; though he had no idea what he would say.
She looked up and gave him a smile. "No, don't worry about it - it's my job to be the parent here, not you. Xing just needs time alone to think; I'm sure she'll be ready to talk soon. Anyway, the soup is done; let me get you a bowl."
But Xing never appeared for dinner, and there was still no sign of her when Tian sat down in front of the television to work on his homework.
"Did your sister say anything this morning about what might be wrong?" Mother asked, casting a worried glance at the bedroom door.
He shook his head. "No, she hardly said anything." He chewed nervously on the end of his pencil for a moment, then blurted out, "Jiang thinks she was replaced by a space alien."
To his relief, Mother only laughed. "Jiang watches too many old movies. I'm sure there's a perfectly rational explanation."
Tian smiled. Of course it wasn't aliens. That was stupid - Xing was just feeling sick, and would be better soon.
~~~~o~~~~
Tian didn't remember going to bed or falling asleep, but his eyes snapped open at the sound of the bedroom door opening. A small figure was silhouetted in the doorway.
"Xing?" he whispered tentatively.
The figure paused, then turned around. The house was completely dark; their parents must have already gone to sleep.
"What are you doing up so late?" he asked.
"I want my dinner."
Tian hesitated. Mother had told her no supper until she apologized to Jiao-tu; it wasn't like Xing to purposefully disobey. But then again, Xing had never gone so long without dinner before, plus she hadn't had much for breakfast. She must be starving. And anyway, she couldn't call in the middle of the night.
"Alright," he said. "Hang on, I'll help you."
Tian led the way into the kitchen, stepping as quietly as possible; Xing followed his example, he was happy to see, with none of her usual skipping or exaggerated movements. Any sound they may have made was masked by the general noise of the street outside.
He didn't want to risk turning on the main light in the narrow kitchen - the door was directly across from their parents' bedroom. Instead, he felt above the stove until he found the switch under the hood, and flicked that on. The bulb was dim and yellow, but it was still enough light to see by.
"Get a small pot out - quietly," Tian whispered. He went to the refrigerator while Xing rummaged under the cupboard. She was actually managing to keep the noise down pretty well; still, he winced at every muffled clunk of metal.
There was enough soup left in the plastic container for another day's meal; Mother probably wouldn't notice if he took a little out for Xing. His stomach rumbled - and himself. He carefully poured it out into the pot on the counter, turned the knob on the stove. There was a snap, and a spark, and then - nothing.
"Dang it," he muttered to himself. Wiping his stinging finger on his shorts, he tried turning the knob again.
"I don't understand," Xing said softly while he fiddled with the stove. She was staring intently at the burner, her head angled slightly. It was odd; Tian tried not to look at her.
"Understand what?" Maybe if he turned it back the other way; that sometimes worked.
"We're supposed to listen to our parents. Jiao-tu told me."
"Then why did you get up in the middle of the night to eat, when Mom told you you couldn't have dinner?"
Xing leaned in closer to the stove, and prodded the burner with her finger. "I was hungry, and I needed to eat. I decided that it was worth getting in trouble."
Tian straightened up with a sigh. "Xing, I can't figure out what you're talking about. What is it that you don't understand?"
"Why are you helping me? Aren't you afraid of being punished?"
He shrugged. "Well, yeah, but - if one of us is going to get in trouble, I'd rather it be me than you. You should have just apologized to Jiao-tu, but I don't like you starving, either. And it was my fault that you missed breakfast."
"So, we don't have to listen to our parents?"
"Of course we do. Just, sometimes, it might be okay not to." His mind flashed back to earlier that morning, when he woke up on the roof rather than in his bed. "As long as they don't find out, and as long as we don't do anything to get hurt." Where was she going with these questions, anyway?
Xing didn't respond to that, just kept staring pensively at her hand, the whole of which was now resting on the cold burner.
"Well," he said, "I can't get it turned on. Do you mind eating the soup cold?"
Just as he turned his back to get two bowls from the cupboard behind them, he heard the sharp snap of a spark. He spun back around - Xing didn't appear to be hurt. She was standing calmly by the stove. Seeing that she had his attention, she pointed at the burner, which was beginning to glow a soft, dull orange.
"It's on now, Brother."
"Oh," he said. "That last twist must have done it." He placed the little pot on the burner, as Xing yawned widely. Just for a moment, her eyes caught the light from the bulb above the stove and seemed to flash red. Tian shivered, and focused his attention on the soup. He wished that it was morning already.