Leslie shrugged. ‘It made sense. You’ve always been there when I needed you.’ She patted Byam gently. ‘Can I ask for one more thing?’
‘Anything,’ said Byam. It felt soft and sad, bursting at the seams with melancholy love.
‘Promise me you won’t give up,’ said Leslie. ‘Promise me you’ll keep trying.’
It was like going in for a kiss and getting slapped in the face. Byam went stiff, staring at Leslie in outrage. ‘That’s – that’s fighting dirty!’
‘You said “anything”.’
Byam ducked its head, but it couldn’t see any way out.
‘I couldn’t take it,’ it said miserably, ‘not now, not after… I’m not brave enough to fail again.’
Leslie’s eyes were pitiless.
‘I know you are,’ she said.
ONE LAST TIME
They scattered Leslie’s ashes on the mountain where she had first seen Byam, which would have felt narcissistic if it hadn’t been Leslie’s own idea. When they were done, Byam said it wanted a moment alone.
No, it was all right, Eun-hye should stay with her mother. Byam was just going round the corner. It wanted to look at the landscape Leslie had loved.
Alone, it took off its clothes, folding them neatly and putting them on a stone. It shrugged off the constriction of the spell that had bound it for years.
It was like taking a deep breath of fresh air after coming up from the subway. For the first time Byam felt a rush of affection for its incomplete self – legless, hornless, orbless as it was. This imugi body had done the best it could for the yearning heart inside it.
Ascending was familiar, yet strange, too. Before, Byam had always striven to break free from the bonds of earth. This time it was different. Byam seemed to be bringing the earth with it as it rose to meet the sky. Its grief did not fall away – it was closer than ever, its cheek laid against Byam’s.
It was all much simpler than Byam had thought. Heaven and earth were not so far apart, after all…
‘Look, Sam,’ said Eun-hye. She held her son up, pointing. ‘There’s an imugi going to heaven! Wow!’
The child’s small frowning face turned to the sky. Gravity dug its claws into Byam.
It was fruitless to resist. Still, Byam thrashed wildly, hurling itself upwards. Fighting the battle of its life, as though it had any chance of winning.
Leslie had believed in Byam. It had promised to be brave.
‘Wow, it’s so pretty!’ continued Eun-hye’s voice, much loved and incredibly unwelcome. ‘Your imo halmeoni loved imugi.’
Sam was young, but he already had very definite opinions.
‘No,’ he said distinctly.
‘It’s good luck to see an imugi,’ said Eun-hye. ‘Look, the imugi’s dancing!’
‘No!’ said Sam, in the weary tone he adopted when adults were being especially dense. ‘Not imugi. It’s a dragon.’
For the first time in Byam’s inglorious career, gravity surrendered. The resistance vanished abruptly. Byam bounced into the clouds like an arrow loosed from the bow.
‘No, ippeuni,’ Eun-hye was explaining. ‘Dragons are different. Dragons have horns like a cow, and legs and claws, and long beards like Santa—’
‘Got horns,’ said Sam.
Byam barely noticed the antlers branching from its temples, or the whiskers unfurling from its face, or the legs popping out along its body, each foot adorned with four gold-tipped claws.
Because there it was, the cintamani of its dreams – a matchless pearl falling through five-coloured clouds. It was like meeting a beloved friend in a crowd of strangers.
Byam rushed towards it, its legs (it had legs!) extended to catch the orb. It still half-believed it was going to miss, and the whole thing would come crashing down around its ears, a ridiculous daydream after all.
But the cintamani dropped right in its paw. It was lit from the inside, slightly warm to the touch. It was perfect.
Byam only realized it was shedding tears when the clouds started weeping too. It must have looked strange from the ground, the storm descending suddenly out of a clear blue sky.
Eun-hye shrieked, covering Sam’s head. ‘We’ve got to find Byam imo!’
‘It’s getting heavy,’ said Jean. ‘The baby’ll get wet. Get Nathan to bring the car round. I’ll look for her.’
‘No, I will.’
‘I’ve got an umbrella!’
They were still fighting, far beneath Byam, as the clouds parted, revealing the palaces of heaven. Ranks of celestial fairies stood by the gate, waiting to welcome Byam.
They had waited thousands of years. They could wait a little longer. Byam turned back, thinking to stop the storm. Anything to avoid a fight.
But the rain was thinning already. Down below, Byam could see the child leaning out of Eun-hye’s arms, thwarting her attempts to keep him dry. He held his hands out to the rain, laughing.
Extended Copyright
We are grateful to the following for permission to reproduce copyright material from:
Aliette De Bodard: ‘Immersion’, first published in Clarkesworld June 2012, copyright © 2012. Reproduced by permission of the author through Zeno Agency Ltd.
Chen Qiufan: ‘Debtless’, translated by Blake Stone-Banks, originally published in Chinese in the anthology The Promising Land, copyright © 2019. Reproduced by permission of the author and translator.
Vina Jie-Min Prasad: “Fandom for Robots” published in Uncanny Magazine, Issue 18, September–October 2017. Reproduced by permission of the author.
Tlotlo Tsamaase: ‘Virtual Snapshots’ published in Afrofuturism, Heady Mix Limited www.headymix.co.uk, October 2019. Reproduced by permission of the author.
Chinelo Onwualu: ‘What The Dead Man Said’. Reproduced by permission of the author.
Vandana Singh: ‘Delhi’ first published in So Long Been Dreaming: Postcolonial Science Fiction and Fantasy, edited by Nalo Hopkinson and Uppinder Mehan, Arsenal Pulp Press, 2004. Reproduced by permission of the author.
Han Song: ‘The Wheel of Samsara’. Reproduced by permission of the author.
Yi-Sheng Ng: ‘Xingzhou’, first published in Clarkesworld Issue 154, July 2019. Reproduced by permission of the author.
Taiyo Fujii: ‘Prayer’, translated by Kamil Spychalski, first published and translated by AIxSF Consortium. Reproduced by permission of the author and translator.
Francesco Verso: ‘The Green Ship’, translated by Michael Colbert, first published in Italian as ‘La nave verde’, Future Fiction, 2018. Reproduced by permission of the author
