The Insignia Series Omnibus: Volumes 5-8: The Insignia Series, #10

By Kelly Matsuura, Joyce Chng, Vonnie Winslow Crist and 5 more

This book is a collection of the second 4 volumes in The Insignia Series (released between 2018 and 2020).

The anthologies are:

ASIAN SCIENCE FICTION
INSIGNIA VOL.5. includes 8 science fiction stories with Asian characters and/or settings.
Contributors: Joyce Chng, Nidhi Singh, Ray Daley, Holly Schofield, Jeremy Szal, L. Chan, Vonnie Winslow Crist, Stewart C. Baker.

ASIAN BIRDS & BEASTS
INSIGNIA VOL.6. includes 8 short stories with Asian characters, settings, and magical creatures.
Contibutors: Nidhi Singh, Amy Fontaine, Stewart C. Baker, Kelly Matsuura, Russell Hemmell, Lorraine Schein, Keyan Bowes, Joyce Chng.

ASIAN FLASH FICTION & POETRY
INSIGNIA VOL.7. includes 11 stories, and 7 poems with Asian characters and settings.
Rebecca Birch, Ray Daley, Liam Hogan, Mary Soon Lee, Dave Dunn, Guilia Moon & Toshiya Kamei, Layne Noser, Anita Goveas, Daniel Scott White, Russell Hemmell, Kelly Matsuura, Luke Shors, Deon Visser.

 

CASTLES & KIMONO
INSIGNIA VOL.8. includes 8 stories and 1 poem with historical Japanese settings.

Contributors: Kelly Matsuura, Alanna Robertson-Webb, tetsuya Sato, Toshiya Kamei, John H. Dromey, Carmen Indalecio, Russell Hemmell, Jo Wu

• Language: English
• Publisher: BWWP Publishing
• Release date: Aug 26, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393320906

Kelly Matsuura

Kelly Matsuura grew up in Victoria, Australia, but always dreamed she would live abroad.  She has lived in northern China, Michigan in the US, and over ten years in Nagoya, Japan, where she now lives permanently. Kelly has published numerous short stories online; in group anthologies; and in several self-published anthologies. Her stories have been published by Visibility Fiction, Crushing Hearts & Black Butterfly Publishing, A Murder of Storytellers, and Ink and Locket Press. She majored in Asian Studies at university, and (sometimes) studies Japanese, Chinese and German. Her other hobbies include cooking, knitting, sewing, and traveling. As the creator and editor for The Insignia Series, Kelly uses her knowledge of Asian cultures to help other indie authors produce great diverse stories and to share the group's work with a new audience.

Book preview

Edited by Kelly Matsuura

Cover Design by Kelly Matsuura©2020

Compilation Copyright© Kelly Matsuura 2020

(Individual anthologies have their own copyright pages with full details).

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This book was created in Japan

First electronic release: August 2020

Published by BWWP Publishing via Draft2Digital Services

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This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of these authors.

Stories are the authors’ original work and are entirely fictional. Any resemblance to real persons (living or dead) or real situations is coincidental.

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All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, without permission from the authors. Short extracts for reviews are allowed.

INTRODUCTION (to the 2020 Omnibus)

Thank you for picking up this collection. The first anthology in The Insignia Series was released in 2013: who knew we would still be going strong 8 years later? As I write this in August 2020, Insignia Vol.8: Castles & Kimono is being released, plus we have a new Insignia Drabbles series out, and Insignia 2020: Best of Asian Speculative Fiction was just released in July. It’s very exciting!

All our books are currently only available in digital formats, and until now, the books have all been listed separately. As we are growing our booklist and readership every year, I thought it would be a good idea to make 2 omnibus editions, breaking the 8 Insignia Series volumes into 2 collections. This is the second omnibus and includes volumes 5 to 8.

I know this won’t appeal to everyone—the individual volumes focus on specific themes, genres, or regions, so some readers will still prefer buying the anthologies individually (and they can!), but I hope these omnibus’ will make it easier for new readers to begin the series.

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Happy Reading everyone!

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Kelly Matsuura

Editor-in-chief

THE INSIGNIA SERIES VOLUMES

(in this omnibus)

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‘Insignia: Asian Science Fiction’ (July 2018)

‘Insignia: Asian Birds & Beasts’ (August 2018)

‘Insignia: Asian Flash Fiction & Poetry’ (2019)

‘Insignia: Castles & Kimono’ (2020)

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Please use the SEARCH function if you’re looking for a

particular author’s work in one of these books.

Insignia Volume Five: Asian Science Fiction

Edited by Kelly Matsuura

Cover Design by Kelly Matsuura

Compilation Copyright© Kelly Matsuura 2018

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This book was created in Japan

First electronic release: July 2018

Published by BWWP Publishing

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‘Stars, Bright as Light’ Copyright© Joyce Chng

‘Islets of the Blest’ Copyright© Nidhi Singh

‘Uncle Ping’s Evening Farewell’ Copyright© Ray Daley

‘Connecting Through the Cosmos’ Copyright© Holly Schofield

‘The Galaxy’s Cube’ Copyright© Jeremy Szal

'Kill/Switch’ Copyright© L. Chan

‘The Drowning Pool’ Copyright© Vonnie Winslow Crist

‘Love and Relativity’ Copyright© Stewart C Baker

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‘Love and Relativity’ first appeared in Nature Physics, September 2015

‘The Galaxy’s Cube’ was first published in Abyss & Apex, April 2016

‘Connecting Through the Cosmos’ was first published at SFComet.com (China), June 2015

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of these authors.

––––––––

Stories are the authors’ original work and are entirely fictional. Any resemblance to real persons (living or dead) or real situations is coincidental.

––––––––

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without permission from the authors. Short extracts for reviews are allowed.

CONTENTS

‘Stars, Bright as Light’ by Joyce Chng

‘Islets of the Blest’ by Nidhi Singh

'Uncle Ping's Evening Farewell' by Ray Daley

'Connecting Through the Cosmos' by Holly Schofield

'The Galaxy's Cube' by Jeremy Szal

'Kill / Switch' by L Chan

'The Drowning Pool' by Vonnie Winslow Crist

'Love and Relativity' by Stewart C Baker

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Author Biographies

STARS, BRIGHT AS LIGHT

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Joyce Chng

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My opponent disintegrated into a mass of molten bits, the metal server arms and legs breaking apart. I fired the war horn, to celebrate my victory. The win tallies shimmered in front of my eyes. One conqueror and two knights.  I was close to making Grade Two.

Distantly, I heard Ma calling my name. Sighing, I unplugged from the server, wincing when the cords detached with a crunch. I always hated separation.

Dinner time! Ma sounded annoyed. I reversed my wheelchair carefully out of my bedroom, noting how cluttered it had become.

The rest of the family were already at the dinner table. Ma had a thing about making the family sit down together at meals. Off your devices, focus on the food and conversation. Tonight's dinner was one of my favorites: egg-drop soup, fried fish with sambal, stir-fried kangkong and cold tofu drizzled with soy sauce. My kid brother was wolfing down his rice. Ma spooned some of the soup into my bowl.

You look pale, she muttered. Here, drink this.

For all her lectures on switching off all electronic devices, she had left the television on. The anchorwoman was talking about food shortages and riots. Southeast Asia was experiencing a drought. They were looking at large-scale desalination.

Ma shook her head and picked at her rice. The rice and tofu were bought from the nearby supermarket, but the fish, eggs and kangkong were from Ma's little allotment. Most people farmed their food now, on the roof tops of the apartment buildings or land allocated by the government. We kept chickens, reared fish and harvested kangkong. Ma was of the generation where Self-Sufficiency was the in-thing. With food shortages becoming more frequent now, growing your food quickly became the solution.

I ate slowly. My throat tended to clamp up if I swallowed too quickly. The egg-drop soup was delicious—the egg white silky smooth and the broth at the right temperature. The fish was a bit dry; the sambal sweet and spicy. I didn't really like the kangkong. It was too crunchy, too hard. I glanced at the empty seat next to Ma.

Don't worry, I will save some of the food for your father. Ma smiled. Daddy was still at work, fixing the rail tracks for the trains. Years of wear and tear had weakened the infrastructure of the rail system.  He was one of the many engineers who were tasked to rebuild the tracks.

My brother left the table as soon as he was done, without helping Ma clear the dishes. I helped carry the empty plates back to the kitchenette.

"I don't know what your didi's doing in his room." Ma sighed wistfully.

After cleaning the dishes, I activated the wheelchair once more. It was time for another match.

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The server accepted me back like a lover, when I plugged back in. My synapses felt as if they were on fire, my body consumed by the rapture. When I opened my eyes, I was no longer Pearl. I was Astra, simpath pilot. My hands controlled a powerful machine, a destroyer of the world. I felt Coriolis rumble into life. The drop ship door opened, and I strode into a nuclear wasteland, thumping into snow and ashes. The simulation was so real that I could see the wind swirling across the white expanse and hear its moaning like some desolate hungry ghost.

A chrome-silver paladin with stripes of crimson was racing up to me, its cannons firing bright green lasers. I evaded immediately, running circles around it. Paladins were medium simpaths. Coriolis was a small scout simpath, light on its feet. We exchanged blows from our weapons, mine scoring cherry-orange streaks across the paladin's armor.

An asterisk blinked at the top-right corner of the cockpit. The pilot of the paladin wanted to talk to me.

Hi.

I was surprised to hear a pleasant voice, almost feminine. There were many pilots who used voice maskers or modulators.

You are good for a Grade One, Astra.

What's your name? I asked distractedly, while still hitting the paladin with my lasers. I needed to upgrade Coriolis with missile launchers.

My real name or game name?  the voice was cheeky, playful.  The paladin deflected my shots with its shield. The cockpit was flashing in crimson red. My heat signature was at dangerous levels.

Either one, I said, disappointed when Coriolis automatically shut down, the weapons frozen. The paladin won by default. Miffed too, because the pilot of the paladin had distracted me so much with the chatter.

Phoenix.

Good game, I congratulated Phoenix curtly.

Will I see you again?

Maybe, I said nonchalantly. Then the paladin disappeared, Phoenix having disconnected from the server. I stared out at the empty snow field, feeling suddenly lonely.

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Ma was not at home when I returned from school. She worked part-time at the supermarket as a cashier.

She had left a plate of fried rice on the table. I had a few spoonfuls and some water before I went back to my room. Ma had cleaned up and thrown away the clutter. Thank you, Ma, I thought. She had done so much for me: for example, I needed her to shower me, as I wasn't as mobile and agile as before. My disease was progressive. It was only about two years ago when the paralysis reached up to my hips and my legs weakened, forcing me to use a motorized wheelchair. I wanted so badly to be independent. Kids my age were hanging out and going to parties, but I couldn't go out without a parent anymore.

I completed my homework. Writing was beginning to frustrate me. I couldn't hold the pen for long as my fingers would shake and cramp up.  That was why I loved the simpath game. Ma hesitated at first when I wanted to install the connector ports but acquiesced after the sales representative showed us the benefits of this virtual reality combat game.

As a pilot of a war robot, you battle robots. You need no physical controls, only the power of your thoughts and will. As you progress in the game, you attain different Grades. The highest will be Grade Five. We have uploaded anti-hacking programs and firewalls to protect our players. An in-game death doesn't mean real-life death. Players will also earn in-game credits that can be translated into real currencies. Rest assured, auntie, she will be fine.

Plugging in, I was excited to see that I had accumulated 5,000 credits. There were many players already in-game, with most signing in from the Northern Hemisphere. I spent some time in the Creation Lab where I checked for updates and upgrades. I 'twirled' Coriolis around, examining the front, back and the flanks.

The asterisk flashed when I returned to the cockpit. I blink-opened it. It was Phoenix.

Hey, good to see you again.

I maneuvered Coriolis out of its berth. No drop ship today. I chose the environment: a temperate forest. Pine trees soared. There was even a flowing river with the clearest water I'd ever seen. Where I lived, angsana and casuarina trees were once dominant. But then, they were cut down to make space for housing estates and factories.

Aren't you supposed to be in school? I asked, thumping down the path strewn deep with brown pine needles.

Just got home. How about you? Phoenix's chuckle was infectious, and I found myself smiling.

Hundred percent done, I dodged incoming lasers. A simpath was sniping from a hidden spot. I hid behind a large redwood. Are you in another match?

Nope. Just relaxing now, upgrading my simpath.

Congrats, I said, firing my lasers at my sniper. Out of curiosity, I checked the server address ID for Phoenix. The code for Phoenix's location was the same of mine. Same country.

Hey, thanks.

I fired once more, and I got the sniper. The knight keeled over as if it was punched in the gut. My war horn reverberated through the forest, startling birds from their roost. An icon of a golden star showed up on the screen.

You have reached Grade Two.

I whooped for joy. Almost immediately, 7000 credits were added to my inventory.  I was ecstatic. I ducked back into the Creation Lab and installed a missile launcher that cost 50 credits. Almost 12,000.  I stared at the number, dumbstruck at my good luck.

Hey, you just attained Grade Two.

Was Phoenix checking up on my stats?

Thank you. Did you just look at my profile? I asked.

Phoenix demurred and didn't answer my question. Just a Bye, bye, Astra. And promptly signed off by disappearing off the players' list.

I returned to reality, feeling the beginnings of a headache. By now, Ma was back. I couldn't wait to have a shower. New Temasek could be so warm. Even warmer now with climate change.

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When I tried to plug into the game the next evening, I only got white static. The sensation unnerved me, because I felt it in my head and body. Was the server down? What happened? Was there a warning about server maintenance?

Ma was watching TV. The news was on.

You see that? Massive black-out in Los Angeles. They are saying it was hackers or terrorists.

This is why the servers are down, I thought. If this is so, then our servers have been compromised.

Daddy came back just at that moment. He walked through the door, looking as if he hardly slept.

Long day at work? Ma had put on her 'positive face', an expression I had for a long time associated with Ma's tendency to mask her own emotions. It was just a show, pretending to be happy.

Hackers broke the firewalls at HQ. Luckily, the safeguards blocked the worst of the attacks. Dad sounded tired, drained of energy. He just wanted to sit down and stare into space.

No wonder I saw long queues at the station, Ma was still smiling, still cheerful. They went on about their workday. I only wanted to return to the game.

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The simpath servers were down for one day.  I occupied myself by reading a novel on my tablet. I itched to go back to the game. If my legs could walk, I would be pacing up and down to work off the restlessness. Outside I could hear mixed sounds of people talking, traffic, and the laughter of children playing at the old playground. My nose picked up the aromas of cooking dinners. Somebody in the same level was frying fish. I wondered how the chickens were in Ma's allotment. Perhaps we should go and collect their eggs. I had a sudden craving for steamed egg custard, the smooth creamy dessert Ma used to make when I was little.

Dinner was spent in silence with the news on TV sounding grimmer by the second. Governments were urging calm. Ours was encouraging us to stay strong, because ‘a united nation is a strong nation’. There were scenes of riots on the streets, people snatching whatever food they could find, others protesting outside embassies and consulates. Ma turned away from the images, spearing the bits of food with her chopsticks. Stab, stab, stab. Even kid brother was uncharacteristically quiet.

Joy flooded in like sunlight on a wet rainy day when I could finally connect with the simpath servers. A few heart beats later, I was looking at my scoreboard and credits. They had fortunately remained intact. Nothing seemed to have changed. Coriolis looked and felt the same. It was only when I walked out into the simulated environment that I knew something was not right. The crystal clarity was now murky, as if the edges had been rubbed away by hand. Some parts seemed to fizzle into pixels. The trees that wowed and awed me with their realness now appeared like a bad 3D project done by amateurs. As I walked Coriolis down the path, the resolution would waver on and off.

I flexed my limbs, Coriolis mimicking my movements. I couldn't shake the feeling that the system was sick. I almost jumped when the asterisk popped up at my peripheral vision. Phoenix. At least Phoenix was around.

Astra! So glad to see you!

I saw other simpaths, large Conquerors and Crusaders, lumbering around, but not engaging anyone for a match. It was weird. Normally challenges would be issued and accepted in a heartbeat. Some of the simpath pilots were extremely competitive. I was half-expecting to be shot, I was so in the open. Yet the big simpaths moved as if they were in a drunken daze, shuffling, their limbs jerky and uncoordinated. What happened? I blurted, startled to hear the nervous quaver in my own voice. I jumped to see a few of the simpaths blink in and out.

Servers were hacked. They put in tracer and destroyer bugs. Don't stay—

Phoenix's voice cut off abruptly. The sky above me dissolved, breaking up into binary code and white noise. I pulled the plug as fast as I could, stunned by the noise. It was so ear-piercingly shrill.  I cried out when the pain knifed right into me.

Only to find myself in my room. My t-shirt was soaked through. I shook uncontrollably. What could I do? What should I do? The window let in a cool breeze, rifling through the curtains and paper stacks left on my study-table. I felt the echo of the pain at the back of my neck.

I broke down and cried.

Are you alright? I heard Ma's voice.

I wiped my nose, drying my tears. I’m fine. Go away.

Ma stood awkwardly for a minute before she finally left.

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At school, the discussion in the classroom was all about the hacking and the blackouts. My classmates' fear was palpable. They really thought the world was coming to an end. I ignored them, focusing—somewhat dismally—on mathematics. Even literature, my favorite subject, didn't lift my spirits. The girls who taunted me were usually silent. I was pleased at this brief respite. It wasn't going to last, but at least I could go home in peace.

Daddy was away at the tracks. Another problem had surfaced overnight. Ma worked at the supermarket. She had left food on the table. It was simple rice porridge and one salted egg mashed up by Ma. Salted eggs were precious. Where did she get them from? Still, I had no appetite.

My hands touched the back of my neck, remembering the agony. Should I connect? The cords looked forlorn, abandoned. I dreaded the pain—I had never experienced that kind of pain before. Inhaling deeply, I closed my eyes and connected. There was the usual bone-crunch, the heartbeats of breathing and I was ...

...floating in the middle of a black field. No simulated environment. No scoreboard and credit. No players' list. Nothing. I glanced down at my body, instinctively, and I had no body. I was just a moving consciousness moving in a space that somewhat reminded me of true space. Who am I? What am I? I saw flickering lights, like fireflies I saw during a trip in Malaysia. They flitted about, like animated stars, some in clusters, some in pairs or individually.

Astra? Phoenix's disemboweled voice shook me from my daze.

Is that you? Is that truly you?

A glowing ball of pink light darted before me. I wondered how I looked like to Phoenix.

I'm here, I said, and my voice was loud. Is this all real?

The server's up, but... I don't know what's happening. We are here, but not here.

We are just... consciousness here? What are we? I breathed, hearing my breathing and how physical and organic it sounded. I was breathing as if I was breathing in my physical body.

The ball of light danced in a figure-eight configuration.

Some of the players are planning a Town Hall meeting. They want to take back the server. Do you want to attend the meeting?

How are we going to have the meeting? This place is.... I let my words trail off. When is it?

Phoenix gave me the details. Then the ball of light winked out, startling me. The flitting stars began to wink out, one by one. I heard a buzzing sound, like a bee next to my ear. The sound filled my skull. Do I have a skull here?

Then I was back in my room. There was no stabbing pain, only an intense awareness of my body, how it moved and how the blood flowed hot in my veins. I stared at my limbs in wonder. I swallowed and the sound of my throat muscles working filled my skull. My heart hissed in my ears. Rush, rush, rush, rush. Torn, I simply sat, starring out of the window. The estate was never quiet even at night. I heard people talking, snatches of conversations, babies crying, and the constant buzz of traffic.  Should I attend the meeting? What if I attend? Would things change?

Would our game go back to normal? Would our world go back to normal?

I had the details. Would I meet Phoenix there?  I never realized how much the game meant so much to me. With my wheelchair, I was earthbound. Without it, plugged into the game, I flew.

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Coming back from school, I saw workmen setting up wiring and steel bars at the heart of our housing estate, where events were normally held. There were some boxes covered by plastic green tarp. They were going to hold a pasar malam, a night market, for a week. Even in my grim mood, I felt my spirits lift a little. I loved night markets, especially for the variety of street food and the games. What was the current popular street snack? Dragon breath desserts doused with liquid nitrogen for the smoky effect? Corn grilled to a golden-brown and liberally covered with the sauce of our choice? The games were fun. Using a fishing rod to pick up tokens floating in swirling water and then getting a reward based on the color of the token. Throwing darts at small balloons. I loved collecting the knick-knacks.

The grim feeling returned when I reached home. The town hall meeting was this afternoon, held so that it was convenient for both the North American side and the Southeast Asian block.

Dinner was watery porridge mixed with minced meat. I had a few spoonfuls before I connected back to the servers. The familiar crunch of pain, and I was floating once more in the space-and-no-space. The landscapes had not returned. It seemed that the programmers had given up. I saw a large cluster of stars congregating. I headed towards it, anxious. Already the argument was in full swing. Some of the players seemed to have chosen to voice and