Diode couldn’t sleep that night.
One of her strong suits was an ability to sleep anywhere, be it the classroom of an anxiety-inducing girls’ school, the cramped space of ventilation ducts, above the ceiling lights in a zero-g concourse, or even the control pit of a pillar boat in flight. If she had to sleep, she always found a way to get as much as she needed. She was able to do it because she had the confidence she would immediately react at the first sign of danger or malicious intent.
But this was her first time sleeping in a place with zero trace of ill will. She’d never slept in the arms of a woman with maxxed out geniality. Her ex-girlfriend had pulled dubious pranks on her while she slept, like tickling her nipples or nibbling on eyelashes. Diode immediately awoke every time it happened and kicked that woman away—but the one she was with now did none of that. The only thing Diode sensed from her was attentiveness.
“It’s not too warm is it, Die-san? Can you breathe? I’m sorry, really, I know I’m way too big. Just let me know if I’m bothering you, okay...?”
After an earlier fuss over a number of things, the tall woman now slumbered peacefully inside the hold-down blanket. She hugged Diode from behind just lightly enough to avoid squeezing her belly, and the woman avoided breathing on her by resting her cheek on Diode’s hair at an angle. Diode was curled up in the middle of the bed in her habitual sleep position, the woman’s ample body stretched around her as if framing her the curve of a crescent moon. It didn’t seem like a very comfortable way to sleep, but the woman seemed extremely content.
—Seriously, what the hell? Give me a break. ‘Tell me if I’m bothering you’? What do I even say to that...?
Diode was living her life’s dream of flying away—with a woman she adored, to boot. And still, while there was nothing else she could have possibly wished for, doubts, anxieties, and complaints began to cloud her thoughts. On second thought, though, the concerns had been there from the start.
From the very moment they slipped away from Fuyō, the Gendō’s gigantic base ship, and set sail with the tiny faster-than-light escape ship Insomnia, when the gas giant that was a constant presence in their life from birth instantly vanished with the rest of the light excepting a single point ahead of them...
When her girlfriend, who sat in the navigator’s seat, turned to the captain’s chair and excitedly said, “We finally did it, Die-san! It’s going to be just the two of us from now on!”
“Hweh?”
Diode hadn’t understood her peculiar reaction, and didn’t have the time to reflect on it. The woman rushed over to her, delighted, then picked her up and spun around. Diode was relieved to be finally free of the mess back in her hometown too, so she didn’t try to push the woman away.
The days that followed could certainly be called their honeymoon.
“This is gonna be our room!”
The woman’s first decision was to convert the captain’s quarters into their bedroom, followed by a renovation of the living quarters.
Insomnia was an escape ship which had been concealed within the base ship Idaho, its likely purpose to return fifteen exiled VIPs to the Galactive Interactive if the occasion arose. It was a cylinder about 20 meters in height. In the center were the living quarters, eight rooms surrounding a tubular passageway. Below it were the ship’s stores, engine room, and Guāngguànhuán chamber, the last of which was walled off. Insomnia was unfit for long-distance navigation, lacked the necessary functionality for atmospheric travel, and had none of the luxuries of a passenger ship—one would surmise it was built for a single escape voyage. Its metallic walls were tarnished, the resin furniture covers had deteriorated, and everything was coated in dust. Nothing about it could be described as pleasant.
In other words, Diode considered it a ship in name only, a place people could maybe live in if they tried hard enough. She felt it more fitting to call Insomnia a double-decker thermos that punched through spacetime.
But in two days the woman had the place cleaned. The floor, walls, and ceiling of the central corridor were cushioned, covered, and carpeted, while the sink and toilet sparkled. She had also put in a comfortable sofa set, and even made a gray molluskoid ornament that smoothly curled up and stretched out. One could mistake it for another ship entirely. Diode was genuinely impressed once she returned from her two-day exile to the bridge.
“Woah... this is cool. Did you bring the sofa with you?”
“I decomped it from AMC clay. Ah! This straycat is also made of clay! I thought it’d make for a nice decoration!”
“Heh... even so, you did really well. The boat’s undergone a sea change.”
“I’ve been thinking about what I’d do with the place once I had the time for a while. From the moment I first came aboard, really. Since for now, this ship is...” The tall woman sitting on the sofa beside her blushed and bashfully whispered, “Our... new home.”
“Mm, hweh...?”
She made the weird noise again. Diode didn’t want the sudden change in proximity, but she didn’t want to be dismissive of all the work her partner had put in either. She held her tongue again.
For the moment, the hardware of their living situation was sorted, so it was time to move on to the software: house rules.
“I’ll print three meals a day for us, so could you handle the trash, Die-san? Like disposing of it or recycling clothing scraps into print toner?”
“Who’s keeping watch? This ship will be flying on its own for two weeks, but still...”
“The boating system has an alarm, so isn’t that enough for us to respond? It doesn’t seem like humans are able to do anything while the Guāngguànhuán Drive is in operation, anyway.”
“Meaning, I’m a twister with nothing to do...?”
“I think it has a training simulator, but let’s rest and have some fun now that we finally have the chance, okay?”
The woman had not just brought their fishing equipment and living supplies, but also a mountain of old Contents from her job to look through, listen to, and stream. The ones she liked most were those concerning the wildlife and natural wonders of the various planets. So, she invited Diode to join her and the two tried them out together.
Diode also had an inclination—or more accurately, an urge—to move around in all three dimensions with wild abandon, so she invited her girlfriend to join when she did. For example, tying a net across Insomnia’s central hall and bouncing a ball back and forth for an indoor ball game.
“Owww! I’m not cut out for this! I can’t do it!”
The tall, heavy woman was bad at accelerating, changing directions, and stopping; she was no match for the tiny Diode, who excelled at nimble movements through angular momentum control. The woman slowly lurched left and right through the hall like a giant battleship, while Diode zigzagged around her like a fighter jet to sink her by catching and throwing 90% of the balls. Their match was painfully boring.
However, once decompression came into play, it was a whole different ballgame. A single AMC clay stick was all it took to reverse the situation. The woman sat motionless in the center, and changing the stick into various shapes—net, spear, rod, rope, rake, and complex 3D shapes that words failed to describe, caught all of the balls and rained them down on Diode from every direction.
“This is pretty fun!”
Diode watched the woman laugh as sweat dripped from her face, and responded by calling it foul play. That was the only time Diode didn’t feel bad.
“Seriously, this is so fun! It’s like a dream. I never thought I’d be able to spend time with you like this.”
“Um? Ah, yeah. Me either.” Even though Diode agreed, she wasn’t really being honest.
And at night—sadly, night was no exception either.
“Um, Die-san... y-you can go ahead.”
The woman hadn’t just cleaned herself. She’d brushed her hair, polished up her face, fingers, and other parts, and hesitantly climbed onto the bed with her slender body clad only in lingerie printed with high-quality, pearl white toner. Diode, drowsy and on the verge of sleep, jolted awake.
“What are you doing, Terra-san?!”
“I did my best to come up with bed dress like yours.”
“Was this where the mood earlier was taking us?”
“I don’t know about the mood, but it’s night, so...”
“It’s not something we have to do just because it’s night...”
“Sorry... is this not a good fit on me after all...?” The woman looked here and there at the places the lingerie didn’t cover and shyly shrank back.
The sight of her shrivelling instantly made Diode furious, and her tiny hands shot out to grab the woman’s shoulder and knee and pushed her long, delicate limbs wide open.
“It is! And it’s crazy fiendish!”
“Ah, sorry...”
“By fiendish, I mean strangely alluring, okay?!”
She hadn’t looked this down since Diode first met her, right after her marriage matchmaking fell through. The woman had the ability to brighten her surroundings just by standing there and smiling, so the moment Diode saw her shrinking into herself, she felt an intense rage. It was why she’d boldly, impulsively suggested a partnership among a clan she knew nothing about.
She’d been driven by righteous anger, but given how everything played out, she was beginning to doubt anger was the only feeling that motivated her. As the two slept with one another, Diode gained an appreciation of those feelings. She was surrounded with everything she liked, as if she’d been handed a soft dough she could knead and season to taste. Having that for herself brought her an unfamiliar sense of bliss.
At the same time, though, she had her misgivings.
“Die... Die-san, you can have me any way you want. Whatever you’d like to do.”
It felt really nice to be told that, and even better to follow through. Compared to her prior experiences, this woman was larger, deeper, heavier; the ability to navigate her body freely with hands, fingers, and mouth wasn’t just a mental delight, it was an immense pleasure to the senses.
And yet, Diode hated giving into the impulse. It made her simple. She especially disliked how easily she’d fallen into that headspace. They’d only eloped three days earlier. It was all going too well.
“Die-san... I’m so happy...”
“Yeah, me too.” Diode kissed her overjoyed girlfriend and shoved those pointless doubts to a far corner of her mind.
—If this is what it’s like when we’re at our happiest, then it’s only going to get more routine from now on. Our days could go on like this forever... her decorating, her cooking, passing our time together, getting it on with her at night... Diode felt an odd chill run down her spine.
No, that’s still being too positive. She shook her head. The high of this moment isn’t going to last. The relationship became dull as time passed, got bent out of shape, and then broke. It’s the same as before. So my relationship with this woman is probably going to change someday.
Actually, even that is being optimistic. We have no idea what this ship is leading us into. The Zugspitze system is supposedly a hub star, but the Wǎngláiquān Fángjūn and the Yǔnshāmén are probably run of the place. We’re a pair of fugitives escaping from prison, so they might sink our ship the moment they come across us. Or maybe it’s the other way around. Maybe the star system was overrun by besshu and there’s nothing we can rely on. If that’s the case, then that’s the end of the line for us. Wait, maybe she’s already realized that and resigned herself to it? Is that why she’s living in the moment and not thinking about anything right now?
Even if they didn’t arrive at a dead end, Diode was anxious about their future prospects.
And even if we somehow avoid getting shot down and find a way to make do, we’re definitely going to be living on this ship. We’ll go to bed and wake up in a glorified two-story house while barely interacting with others.
And, if she didn’t do anything about it, that would continue until the end of their lives. However long that might be.
No, I need to think of a lifestyle where we don’t end up like that. Something like... Getting a house in a city in space or on some planet and living among the people there? Is that even possible? It’s not like we fit in with the people where we’re from. And if we do fit in, does that mean we’re going to calmly settle down? Doesn’t that mean that no matter where we go or what we do, I’m never going to be comfortable with my living situation?
“Die-san...” Even in her sleep, the woman called out her name and pet her head. She couldn’t seem to get enough of Diode at all.
She didn’t understand it herself, but Diode found it comforting. No matter how many times the woman’s large, warm hands caressed her and she was blanketed in their familiar, sweet cream scent, she never tired of it.
Long ago on Sōfu-iwa, her base among the clouds, Diode had her own personal living pit, and due to the way that bothersome immersion capsule matched her movements, she couldn’t touch her family. Leaving it forced her to crawl on the floor under the 2g gravity. Her only option was to stay inside the pit. So she lived with her mother, their chats and conflicts conducted through transparent walls.
And yet, she remembered how happy and safe she felt when she was much smaller, while she could still touch her mother directly. Diode could go wherever she wanted and hug her mother whenever she wanted while the base was completely submerged in the warm, pleasant gel. At the time, it was a place filled with the scent of happiness.
At some point, she was put inside a personal pit and started to fly the Kayak, a small aircraft. It was a step taken by her mother to give her daughter independence, as well as cut the expense of constantly purifying a huge amount of biofluid gel. Diode had forgotten about it until now. Back then, she felt profoundly sad and lonely at her mother making that change, which she thought was cruel.
The root of her defiance, her anger, and her frustration was back there. It led to her to begin making use of her sizable vocabulary of profanities, and eventually to leave the base altogether. She wasn’t that way by birth or even disposition—and she only had that sudden flashback with her face buried in the woman’s chest. It horrified her. Does this woman know just how vulnerable she is?
She couldn’t see in the dark, but Diode looked up towards where she heard breathing. There, behind those gentle, dark green eyes was her mind. It had been obsessed with the idea of needing to marry a man but she’d slammed that idea in the trash. In its place was a strange glee that was so hardwired she’d follow this stubborn, selfish, and lustful girl who smelled like a strange medicinal herb all the way to hell. Diode was aware that a woman like that by her side, and not off somewhere in the four-thousand light-year sphere of humanity, was a miracle.
She wasn’t just aware of it, she wholeheartedly embraced that fact. Struck by the happiness of the blessed notion, a hundred times more powerful than the amazement she felt when they first met, Diode began crying.
“Terra...san.”
I can’t describe how happy someone this big and wonderful choosing me and giving me her love makes me. I’m not afraid of growing tired of this, reaching a limit with her, or it becoming boring. What scares me is being abandoned by her.
“I love you. I love you so, so much...”
“Hweah.” She whispered, wiping her tears on the woman, who snorted like a fool as she gently patted Diode’s shoulder.
I’ll do everything in my power to stay with her—Diode swore to herself.
“Let’s get separate rooms.”
“What?!”
It was the eighth morning after slipping out of port. Terra fell over in surprise at Diode’s sudden pronouncement, or at least what passed for falling over in the zero-g environment of the captain’s quarters.
“Why? Ah, is the bed too small? Do I snore? I was getting the feeling you couldn’t sleep. Sorry! I’ll do something about it, so–”
“You’re not a bother at all, and your snoring is so cute I could pass out. It’s not that I can’t live with you.”
“Why then?!”
“You’re too present,” Diode said, then quickly looked to the side like she was thinking it over, then looked back to Terra and reiterated, “You’re too close.”
“You did mention something like that before, but still...”
Every time the girl in the black tightsuit moved her head, her barrette-adorned silver hair fluttered behind her. The direct stare of blue eyes so dark they looked like a light from deep space made Terra, in her green tightsuit, go weak and drift.
“I figured since we’re traveling together and no one else can see us, we’d want to be even closer to one another...”
“It’s not really a matter of others seeing us, it’s just... everyone has their own territory.”
“And there’s no room in that territory to share with your partner?”
“We need our own territory because we’re partners. We had our own rooms back at Idaho. Did you forget that already?” Diode asked bluntly. She glared at Terra and continued, “Or are you going to object to me having my own space and do everything you can to keep me pinned to the wall?”
“P-pin you to the wall?! I thought you enjoyed that!”
“Well, yes, I did enjoy it, but that’s because you kept showing me the charms of your body! You weren’t demanding it. Actually, this was an issue before we even departed. I never said I wanted to do it every night.” Then, feeling less confident in her statement, Diode added, “At least, I don’t think I did.”
“So, um...” Terra covered her face, “Was I being slutty...?”
“Wait, wait, no! That’s not what I’m saying. I didn’t mean that at all. You’re fine as you are, Terra-san,” Diode replied frantically. Feeling guilt as Terra looked up at her, she continued, “It’s just a little too often, and this is a simple solution.”
“A solution...”
“Please look at it from my perspective. I need some alone time.”
“Oh,” Terra replied with sudden realization. “R-right! There are times when you don’t want to see your partner... and want some time to yourself. I’m the same way.”
“Do you get me now?”
“I do! We don’t have to do every single little thing together just because we’re dating. Sorry, I’m totally lacking in experience...”
“Don’t let each and every thing get to you. Well then, I’m off.”
“Wait!” Terra firmly held Diode in place. “I’m the one who should leave. This is the captain’s quarters, and you’re the twister here, so you should stay.”
Even if it was the captain’s quarters, there was nothing special about it, except it was built for a single person, while the other rooms were doubles; they had two suspended beds strapped to the floor and ceiling. Diode thought it made more sense to leave the wider bed for Terra, while she slept in one of the doubles or even in a dark corner of the storeroom, but according to Terra, it would be faster if she took a different room and decomped for repairs and remodels.
“I guess you’re right. Sorry, then, but could you leave?”
They reached an agreement. Diode slept alone that night for the first time in several days. When she woke up, the bed felt spacious. Though not sure why, she flailed her arms around and sniffed the air, but something was lacking. The huge, warm thing that snugly protected one side of her body was gone. The wide room felt emptier than it really was.
She was the reason why, and she felt like she’d gotten days’ worth of good sleep as a result. From day one, she’d always slept alone back on Idaho, so this was nothing new. And yet...
Diode sat up in bed, her head continuing to hang listlessly. Purr—she heard a strange noise similar to a vibration motor. A mollusc shape wandered over from the beside and crawled around her hips. It lacked legs and wings, only having two ears as pointed as a lighter’s flame that carefully, restlessly twitched towards the surroundings, and thread-thin golden eyes that scanned the space. Terra asserted she’d made the pet as close as possible given the material available on them. It made a hollow sound, like an echo inside a black hole.
“Mrrooow.”
Either those documents or those ancient people had something very wrong with them—Diode thought. She didn’t feel like taking care of it at all. Still, she tried, even though it crawled from hideout to hideout in the room out of some peculiar interest or goal. Sometimes, like now, it coiled around Diode.
Its head was tiny, fitting perfectly in her hand. She had no interest in caring for it, but for whatever reason, she did anyway. It eagerly vibrated like a motor and rubbed against her, constantly wagging its tail while its head was getting pet. It was like it was really alive.
As she wondered about it, it began to weird her out. It seemed to be pleading for food, but since it was actually AMC clay, it didn’t eat. It was a mystery why the clay even moved in the first place. Besshu moved of their own accord, but since this clay had been properly processed on a base ship, it wasn’t besshu anymore. It acted in line with the decomper’s expectations.
Meaning that it felt...
“Lonely?”
Mrrow.
Yeah!
She heard two responses, one close, one distant. Diode looked at the door, glided over, and opened it. Terra stood outside, clad in a casual shirt and pants. She raised her hands in a panic and began to speak.
“Um, I wasn’t eavesdropping or anything! It’s already breakfast time and I thought I’d come get you up to eat, so I did, but then I wasn’t sure if I should wake you, so I hesitated a little, but then I heard your voice...”
She spoke in a faltering way. Her face looked emaciated, dark bags hung beneath her eyes, and her slightly swollen cheeks looked sickly. Her wheat-colored pigtails floated to her left and right, but their braids were haphazard. She didn’t have her usual look of someone with their morning in order.
One glance was all it took for Diode to arrive at the correct guess. “Couldn’t sleep, huh?”
“I did sleep. Well, a little.”
“Come on. You slept two hours at most. Were you lonely after all?”
“Uh, well...” She pressed her fingertips together and in a pathetic voice, confessed, “Yeah, I was lonely.”
That the tall woman filling the door could be that dejected, and radiate loneliness so much more strongly than the average person, almost made Diode slip up and say it.
Me too.
“I slept great.”
“Ah! That’s a relief!”
“Yeah. It’s like I thought. I can relax if I have my own bedroom.”
Terra seemed genuinely relieved. So surely her complexion would follow... but unsurprisingly, that was not at all the case.
Diode couldn’t sleep unless they were apart, but being apart made her feel lonely. She sighed when she finally realized that the distance between them had become a tricky issue.
“Sigh—here.”
Diode gently floated up and pressed Terra’s face into her chest.
“?!”
“We’re not going to be in separate beds forever. I’ll go see you whenever I feel like snuggling with you. Is that okay with you?”
“Ye...yeah!”
“I want you to sleep well, too.”
Diode felt a tight embrace of her body. The straycat meowed and disappeared into a gap.
She couldn’t sleep if they were glued to one another’s hip day and night as Terra would like, but disappearing to get some shut-eye when it suited her made Terra lonely and restless. They weren’t completely compatible.
Hmm, I see, so that’s how it is. Human preferences are all over the place, so we’re not going to be in 100% agreement on everything. And as two women who had to run away in desperation, it’s good that there aren’t more things making us frustrated. Actually, this is almost the best possible outcome.
Or so Diode thought, but that didn’t seem to be the case for her partner. Terra behaved like she wanted to have fun with her and get much closer. Diode refused to let their relationship fall apart because of something like that, so from that point onwards, she consciously kept some distance between them. When Terra tried to pet her, she turned away. When Terra tried to snuggle up, she’d take a step back. When Terra tried to invite her to play, she’d frown. The clay straycat acted the same way for some reason.
“Die-san, whyyy...? Why are you being so cold all of a sudden? Are you fed up with me? Even though it’s only been a week...?”
—You say that as if you’re not fed up with me keeping my distance. And why are you wearing clothes, anyway? We’re two people getting on with it by ourselves in the universe, so why don’t we just go naked day and night and get it on?
“Not really. This is how I usually am,” came Diode’s response.
They began a strategy meeting to prepare for arrival. Diode’s father, Ozuno, was an irritating recluse, but after a lot of trouble, he had become involved with town management. That was when he got his hands on a document held by his political adversary and passed it along to Diode.
Their destination of the Zugspitze star system, according to the document, was a frontier hub system, connected to four prominent star systems via faster-than-light travel routes. It had a population of at least a million. However, in recent years, they had suffered from a planetary disturbance (what that entailed was unclear) due to shape-shifting alien lifeforms, and were seeking out any and all possible aid.
The document had been authored by the Wǎngláiquān Fángjūn, as to be expected, but it had been co-signed by the Yǔnshāmén. They had no idea what this second party was, or why they had signed their name beside the army’s.
All they knew was that those two groups and alien lifeforms were likely to be present at their destination. They could be gladly welcomed, or they could be treated as fugitives who had arrived on a stolen ship. Sadly, that was always a possibility. They understood it wouldn’t be smart to loudly announce their arrival and force their way into dock, so they settled on quietly take stock of the situation once there. They would observe at their own pace, discuss it, and then make their approach. However, they had limited stores and reserves, so they couldn’t drag it out for too long. They’d eventually have to make contact.
The captain and her navigator listed their names as Diode Ishidōrō and Terra Intercontinental. Gendō and Endeavour were both names of exiled clans, so they decided to initially not give their names as such. Next, they weren’t sure whether to state that they were partners.
“Wait, first, do we want to disclose that we’re in a relationship? At least once we’re sure we don’t have to worry about our gender and where we came from?”
“I want to tell them... I want others to hear about how great you are.”
“I don’t really want to...”
“Oh, right.”
“Hmm? It’s not because I’m embarrassed by you or anything, okay?”
It wouldn’t stay a secret forever. Looking for a planet where they could be together was always the plan; indeed, Diode considered being out and proud about their relationship to be one of her main goals. It was just that she was also exceptionally wary of exposing her partner to the dangers that might come with that.
The countdown clock at the navigator’s seat started the moment of departure. The panel showed 315 hours, but calculation errors and failures were always a possibility—meaning there was the risk they could arrive early or late. They carried half a year of food and water in case they were delayed, but they also needed to be ready for an early arrival, which embarrassingly, only occurred to them with 170 hours remaining on the clock. They’d spent the first half of their journey messing around, which left an increased workload for the second half.
Piloting the 300-year-old ship in the training simulator was an unfamiliar experience, very different from the new-style control pits Diode was used to operating. The ship lacked astronomical navigation aids, so it wasn’t possible to determine the ship’s location. If they could use the boating system’s AI to request aid from local rescue craft, then neither piloting or navigation equipment would be necessary, but there was no guarantee it still worked after three centuries. On top of that, they weren’t sure if they would be able to enter a port and dock. In the worst case, they would need an extravehicular mobility unit.
“Space suits! Terra-san, did you bring space suits?!”
“I didn’t, but I’ll print them! I can handle the important parts with the usual decomping!”
There was no guarantee their communication protocols and navigation procedures were still in use. They were also unvaccinated. Since they interacted with the visiting ship every two years, they were probably fine, but otherwise there was nothing they could do.
“This is us basically jumping into a star with just a swimsuit and parasol, isn’t it?”
“That’s right, Terra-san... though I would say we don’t even have the parasol.”
Diode flashed a lukewarm smile at Terra only just now getting scared. The straycat coiled around the ceiling light made a low-frequency noise, like it was happy. It might have even been making fun of them.
One night, during those suddenly hectic days, Diode came knocking to Terra’s room. She had outdone herself with the lacework on the bustier.
“Wha-what’s up Die-san? You... you look incredible.”
“If you’re not up for it, I can go back to my room.”
“N-no! I am! Come in! Come in!’
They alternated the second week between exhausting themselves making a mess of the bed one night and relatively quiet evenings spent alone the next, taking care not to rob themselves of one another’s sleep.
Diode’s warmth at night and frostiness during the day left Terra disoriented. For Diode, the adjustments gave her peace of mind from preserving a semblance of distance. But at the same time, the thought of the delicate balance being lost gave her a sense of unease. Both were lethargic, drowsy, and exhausted, but neither had yet to notice the insanity that came from complete isolation in space.
Thirteen days and three hours after departure, an alarm sounded.