/CIA Directorate of Science and Technology, NOAA Office of Satellite Communications, NASA joint investigative force, Internal Memo RE:new Messier code system/26.06.98: The increasing number of novel celestial bodies appearing in the thermosphere has necessitated a new naming and classification system. The JIF recommends adopting Juraszczyk's dual-letter global divisions based on the coordinates of Heaven and Hell's Gates, with the addition of Dr. Lancernopt's synchrotron radiation spectrum classifications.

Taken as example: the first (01) new 'star' to appear over the city of Xi'an, China (34.16 N "K" 108.54 E "B") at 24:22:07 (UTC+8) on 24.06.98, classification level 2, shall be assigned the new Messier code "BK-201".

Further refinement of this system will be needed./

"You understand - don't you, Brother?"

The creature that had used to be his sister gazed at him expressionlessly through red-tinted eyes. It was as if all the air had been knocked from Tian's lungs. In his mind he was shouting, crying, running to his parents and shaking them to wake them up. In reality, he was still frozen in the doorway, too shocked to move.

Xing took a step towards him, and his heart skipped a beat. But then the light faded from her eyes; her eyelids drooped as her body sagged, and she slumped lifelessly to the floor.

"Xing!"

The sudden terror of being left completely alone galvanized Tian into action. He sprang forward, catching her limp form just before her head hit the ground. There was a slight prickle on his hands where he held her, as if from static electricity, that faded almost as soon as he'd touched her. The air held a slight whiff of ozone. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders, nestling her head against his shoulder. She was still breathing.

Tian shook her small frame gently. "Xing!" he said again, then shook her a little harder. She didn't respond. Panic clawed at his mind, and he fought to keep from hyperventilating. Xing's face was relaxed and peaceful, her breathing even. She seemed to be…sleeping. It didn't make any sense. Nothing made any sense. What was wrong with her? She didn't appear to have any wounds or injuries at all; then again, his parents hadn't been injured either, yet they…

He swallowed hard to keep the bile from rising in his throat. If he kept his eyes fixed on his sister's face, he didn't have to see Mother's limp arm, reaching out for them.

The room felt small and oppressive, the stink of ozone pervading everything; he was going to be sick if he stayed one minute longer. But he couldn't leave Xing alone, not here. What if she woke up, and couldn't remember anything that had happened, and the first thing that she saw was…

Gathering his sister in his arms, he hefted her up as he stood. It had been ages since he'd last carried her anywhere, and she was heavier than he remembered. Still keeping his eyes averted from the scene in the middle of the room, Tian took Xing to their dark bedroom and sat with her on her bed. The dull glow of the city leaked in through the open window, giving her skin a sickly yellow cast, while the white poster above her bed loomed over them.

Tian held her close, unable to take his eyes off of her. Asleep, she looked just like her old, cheerful self. Mother would scold her for getting her school uniform so rumpled.

This isn't real, Tian told himself, rocking slightly. It's just some kind of dream. Xing would wake up, they would laugh over what a silly dream they'd both had, then they would go out into the kitchen to find Mother making dumplings for breakfast and Father rushing out the door, late for work but not too late to pause to ruffle their hair and kiss their foreheads.

Another wave of nausea threatened to overcome him; he clutched his sister tighter, shivering despite the heat of the night and the warmth of her body.

He should call the police. Maybe Mother and Father were alright after all, and just needed a doctor. But he knew the words were untrue even as he thought them. And how could he explain what had happened? Would the police arrest Xing? What if she didn't wake up? What if she did? He shouldn't have lingered at wushu practice; if he had just come home earlier, he could have stopped Xing from doing…whatever it was she had done. Mother and Father would still be alright.

Or maybe he should have stayed at the Xus' for dinner; then Uncle would have walked him home, and been here to help. He would have known what to do. And if he didn't, Grandfather would. Grandfather always knew the right thing to do.

Tian very nearly jumped up off the bed to go call him, when he remembered that the phone was in the kitchen. He would have to walk out there to make any calls. Hot tears streamed down his cheeks to splash onto Xing's forehead. What could Grandfather possibly do, anyway? He remembered the cold, callous ease with which Xing had attacked Mother. She would do exactly the same thing to Grandfather. And Uncle, and Aunt, and Jiang and Jiao-tu.

Once the tears began to fall, they didn't stop. He huddled over his sister, shaking and crying, until his lungs were heaving and his eyes were sore and dry. Never once did he look away from Xing; she remained curled up and sleeping peacefully in his arms. The minutes ticked away on his alarm clock; then hours. The lights in the neighboring apartments began to flicker off, one by one.

Tian jumped at every sound: loud voices on a television next door, a car door slamming in the street below, windows being opened and shut. He kept expecting the police to burst in, or a neighbor to knock on the door wondering what all the commotion had been. But no one came.

A twinkle of light caught his eye, and he finally looked up. Just visible in the corner of the window was the new star.

"Brother?"

Tian's gaze snapped back to his sister. "Xing? Are you alright?"

She pushed herself into a sitting position, blinking blearily. With reluctance, he let go of her.

"Why are we sitting in the dark?"

His heart sank. She sounded the same as before. "I…I didn't want to turn on the light," he said.

"Is it bedtime? I should put on my pajamas."

"Xing, don't you…don't you remember…?"

"Remember what?"

Tian struggled to find the right words. "When I got home," he stammered. "You, and Mother, and F-Father…"

"Oh. You mean when Father tried to tell me what to do, and I killed him?"

Icy cold pain lanced through Tian's chest at her words, but Xing continued on as if she was talking about something as innocuous as the weather. "I didn't mean to kill him," she said, raising one hand to stare at it curiously. "I just wanted to hurt him so he would leave me alone. But killing does the same thing."

"…how?" Somehow, he hadn't thought to question it before; but now, getting distracted by the minutiae was preferable to thinking about anything else. "How did you do it?"

"It's electricity, I think," Xing said. "I used it to turn on the stove last night. I remembered Mother told me to never play near electrical wires, because they could hurt me. I wanted to see if my electricity could hurt people; it does."

"Aren't you sorry at all? You k-killed them!" There was a hysterical edge to his voice, and he desperately tried to keep his breathing steady.

"No. They -"

"Were trying to tell you what to do - I know, you said that already!"

She didn't care. At all. Mother and Father had just been a means to an end, and all she could think about now that they were gone was finding a new way to get what she needed.

"Are you even still Xing?" he asked quietly.

She paused, then said, "Who else would I be?"

Tian ran a shaking hand through his hair. "I don't know."

Xing yawned. "Are we done talking now? I'm getting tired."

He stared at her in disbelief; he didn't think he would ever sleep again. "You just woke up from a three-hour nap; how can you be tired?"

"I wasn't sleeping because I was tired, I was sleeping because I had to. Brother, will you cook me breakfast in the morning, since Mother can't?"

Tian took a deep, shuddering breath. Morning. He didn't want to think about the morning. What were they going to do - walk to school as if nothing had happened? He could tell Grandfather then, and Grandfather would…would what?

"Xing," he said as levelly as he could manage, "if someone else, like Grandfather, tried to make you do something that you didn't want to do, would you - would you kill him too?"

She cocked her head. "Why wouldn't I?"

Why? he wanted to scream; but he knew that he wouldn't get an answer from her that made sense. It was almost impossible to imagine a nine-year-old girl harming Shifu-Grandfather in any way, but he was only just beginning to realize that he had no idea what his sister was now capable of.

He couldn't run to the rest of the family; Xing would hurt them. He couldn't leave her behind; she could hurt someone else. But he definitely couldn't stay in this apartment, with his parents lying cold and still out there.

"We have to leave," he said, standing abruptly.

"Why?"

"Because when someone finds out what you did, the police will come and arrest you. Do you want to go to prison?"

Xing remained seated on her bed. "I can kill the police; they're only people."

"Xing, they'll shoot you! Didn't you hear about what happened to Mr. Hon, the barber? Can you run faster than a bullet?"

She paused while she pondered that. "No," she said at last.

"Then pack some clothes."

Tian tore open his dresser drawer and began pulling items out at random, tossing them into a messy pile on his bed. Xing was slower to move, but she followed his example.

"I can't see," she said. "Turn on the light."

"No!" Tian paused, gripping the edge of the drawer, until the spike of fear had passed. "We can't let the neighbors see," he explained. "If they think anything is wrong, they'll call the police."

A part of him - a very large part of him - wanted that exact scenario to happen. The police would come, they would take Xing away, and this would all be over. But then he imagined Xing being led away in handcuffs, never to be seen again. Or worse, her lifeless body on the floor, riddled with bullet holes and gushing with blood.

He dumped out his school bag and sorted through the contents in the dark. His hand closed around the cloth bundle of pears that Grandmother had sent home with him, what seemed like years ago now, and he was nearly overcome by a wave of dizziness. But he focused on his breathing, and it soon passed. Wiping the back of his hand against the fresh tears on his cheek, he placed the pears back into the bag and crammed his clothing in after.

But the pears reminded him - they would need food.

"Wait here," he told Xing. "And pack your first aid kit; we might need it later."

He gripped the door knob with a sweating, shaking hand, suddenly feeling dizzy again. Just breathe, he told himself, leaning his forehead against the rough grain of the wood. Forget the past. The future is meaningless. Emotions are nothing but unnecessary distractions. The words drifted through his mind unbidden; strangely, he felt a little calmer. Taking a deep breath, he opened the door.

Nothing out there had changed; he hadn't expected it to. Tian practically sprinted into the kitchen, keeping his eyes averted from the living room as much as he possibly could. Once there, he foraged through the cupboards, pulling out every can or package of food that could be eaten without cooking and stuffing them in with his clothes. It wasn't much.

Grandfather's voice echoed in his head, reminding him to think before he acted. They would need more than just food and clothing. Father's office was just off the kitchen; Tian went there next.

Even though the tiny room was empty, he had never felt like more of an intruder. Tian gingerly took two steps forward; the creak of the chair when he sat was impossibly loud in his ears, and he cringed slightly. He could still remember when his legs were too short to reach the ground in this chair; Xing had loved to spin around in it.

Father's papers were scattered across his desk in what he called "an organized mess". His reading glasses were sitting in the center, as if he'd only just set them down. Tian gazed at the neat, tight handwriting covering the pages. Blinking back tears, he pulled open the bottom desk drawer to reveal a small shoe box, from Xing's toddler days. He removed the box from the drawer and lifted the lid: it was about half-full with tidy rolls of cash. His parents didn't have a bank account; Tian didn't know anyone who did. This was all the money their family had.

Mother was always telling Father that he ought to keep the drawer locked. Father would just respond that anyone who was desperate enough to break into their house and steal was welcome to it. Father would forgive Tian, he was sure, for taking the money. He didn't stop to count it, just jammed it into his bag with everything else.

Tian replaced the now-empty box in the drawer and slammed it shut with such force that the objects on the shelves above wobbled precariously. A loud rocking sound came from one of the other drawers. He opened it cautiously: Father's hunting knife, sheathed in worn leather, lay atop another stack of papers. He picked up the knife, his hand closing around the familiar carved handle, and slipped it into his pocket.

When he turned to go, he found himself face-to-face with Father's telescope, which was propped in the corner by the door. Tian stared at it without really seeing it. Everything had gone wrong after the stars had disappeared. The new stars were just fakes; everyone was saying so. His sister was a fake now too, wasn't she? Father, Mother, Grandfather - everyone had promised him that nothing had changed, that there was nothing to be worried or frightened about. They'd been wrong. Worse than that - they'd lied to him.

His foot connected with the big metal tube before he even realized that he'd moved. The telescope toppled to the floor with a loud crash; something inside had shattered.