After five months on the Hyleon, Hermia understood why its citizens mistook it as the center of the galaxy. Anything could be found a short walk from her cabin. In her first days onboard, Hermia needed blue-light lenses just to walk across the atrium. Even though there were no windows, the denizens seemed aware at all times that they drifted through the inky sea of space. Every agora, every temple, every pool was continuously illuminated with dazzling lights. Except for today.

Soft red lights lined the walkways for huddled crowds, highlighting the paths to their preordained observation decks. The crimson solar curtains, which assimilated power from nearby stars, would be drawn back according to the Emperor’s orders. No one would miss the celebration.

“Look at the new fountain on Balcony 92!” Vee said, pointing across their boat. Hermia tried to follow, but only saw an outline of the winged statue. “We need to take a picture there before you leave.”

Hermia heard the sadness in her voice. She gave her hand a squeeze, hearing the familiar jingle of golden bracelets. “Sure. And then I can show you around my home!”

“I can’t wait,” Vee said. She saw Hermia gazing at one of the signs across from them. The light shining through the circular ad turned it into a pale fuschia globe. “We have a week to spend while the ship refuels. What should we see first?”

“My town will be hosting the Liberty Gala tomorrow night. Every other polis will arrive for the light shows. No planet does fireworks better than Cyracuse.”

Their spirits rose, along with the skiff. The boat levitated through the atrium, following its preprogrammed route. When they entered their exclusive channel, Vee reached back to grab the oar. Hermia had been told countless times that it was a privilege to fly in a private ship. The message must have been lost on her friend, who adjusted the thruster oar to increase their speed threefold.

“Woah! Slow down,” Hermia called out, her voice echoing in the tunnel.

“And miss the fireworks?” Vee asked. Hermia’s surprise made her smile even wider. “That would mean missing another chance to show off my ship.”

Our ship. That was what Hermia would have said, until the whoosh of the skiff gliding into its docking platform interrupted her. After all, her father had designed the vessel. Hermia was just old enough to remember when Emperor Hyleon had smothered the skies with his fleet. It was a reminder, her parents said. During his next tour, six solar years later, the merchant lords of Cyracuse honored their protector with a floating palace – a reminder that creativity was a flame that needed space to breathe. He accepted, so long as a child of the architect came with it. As the boat levitated up into Vee’s home, Hermia held her breath.

The entrance to the chamber was encircled by a wall of ice, sculpted to look like people dancing through a field of fire. It was too beautiful. Seeing her reflection in one of the dancers, Hermia could feel the frostbite burning her face. As they walked down the ramp extended by the skiff, she laid her shoes carefully inside the boat. Vee kicked her sandals off and onto the hardwood floor.

Near the window, dwarfed by soldiers in iridescent armor, stood a man wearing a purple tunic. Looking back at Hermia with a finger to her lips, Vee snuck up behind him while he talked to the soldiers in a low voice. Before he could notice, she snatched the golden laurel wreath from his head. Now that she had his attention, Vee bowed to the three of them.

Hermia shuddered when the Emperor laughed, fighting the urge to cover her ears. That booming voice did not match his jolly, silver beard. Even the chandelier shook when he said, “Vibiana! Where is our guest?”

“Here, sir,” Hermia whispered, peeking out from behind Vee.

“Good. Truly good! Now, hand back my crown, Vibiana,” the Emperor said.

Vee placed the crown back on her father’s head, and hugged him so tightly his shoulders popped.

“Gentleman, you are dismissed. My bodyguards are here,” he said once his breath returned. “Relay my messages to the other ships. Then, enjoy the show.”

In the minutes leading up to the fireworks, Vibiana regaled her father with tales of their exploits. Following their tutoring session, the girls had visited the Ring World Symposium – the last cultural section Hermia had left to see before her compulsory exchange program ended. After filling the Emperor in, Vibiana then shushed them when the lights in the room dimmed.

As the solar curtain pulled back, Hermia took her seat next to Vee. The Emperor sat to the left of his daughter, leaning back to get comfortable in his throne. Then, it began. Hundreds of lasers dashing through the darkness, each one ending in a brilliant explosion. A myriad of fireworks went off in tandem, each erupting in dazzling debris. All of this happened at such a distance, that only the vague outline of shapes could be glimpsed. General patterns emerged every now and then, but these nuances were lost in the symphony of stardust.

The show lasted for two hours. Vee got up to leave halfway through, both inundated and bored with the magnitude of the fireworks. As she went off to ask the servants for dinner, Hermia and the Emperor remained fixated on the display. After staring so long that his eyes teared up, Hyleon let out a contented sigh.

He rose to deliver the news to his daughter, who had finished setting the feast. Upon hearing this, Vee ran over to her friend shouting, “Hermia! Hermia! Dad told me we’ll be staying with you for a long time!”

Hermia did not respond. The fuschia planet in the background cried out to her – just as it called to the tiny specks of broken ships in its orbit.