Dina clutched the bamboo frame of her balafon, hesitant to jump in. Eyes still shut, Stacia nodded in her direction with a brief faltering smile. Encouraged, Dina struck the bamboo keys. The notes had the tenor of an electric keyboard, lightning flashes across inky clouds. Burlap rough, overlaying the captain’s smooth, satin inner lining.

When the captain made changes, the rest of the attending command ensemble’s response produced new structures in the music. They rode the chord progressions as if they were chasing light. Each note, each chord, the tempo, all had texture, hue, and shape. The color of music, moving in more than one dimension. Every sense bleeding into the next, telling a story. The universe began with nothing, vast and structureless. Empty. A cold place of vacuum and void. Out of that nothing, structures came about and took root. Establishing order among the chaos. Fundamental laws coming together to support those burgeoning structures.

Stacia left the central melody to explore. Dina veered opposite her. Quarks and electrons, the musical notes on a tiny vibrating string creating magic. Color streamers bouncing at random, soon coalesced, a stained glass window whose individual panes melted. The music danced in interplay with the crystals.

Oblivious to the ensemble, caught up in their interplay with each other, Stacia and Dina reached their crescendo. Their instruments fell in tune with the vibration of the crystals. Stacia brought the piece to a close. Sweat glistened on her arms. Glancing at Dina, she was met by a rapturous smile. She was a fine command candidate. Dina stood, her legs wobbly under her.

“That … that was something,” Dina said.

“Your first time?”

“I mean, I’ve practiced on my own. Experimented along the way when I found the right people, but nothing like…”

“… a command performance. One wasn’t scheduled, only a rehearsal, but I don’t think the crystals are complaining.”

“I know I’m not.” Dina steadied herself, hovering beside Stacia’s bench, waiting for permission.

“After that performance, I’m not going to deny you a seat.” Though Stacia suspected more than a streak of self-interest and ambition in the woman, to climb further into the captain’s relational orbit, she patted the settee. “How much can I trust you?”

“After that performance, I’d bury a body with you.” Dina smiled.

“Hopefully, it won’t come to that.” Stacia began to shut down her clavioline, a task to occupy her to keep from meeting Dina’s eyes too directly. “I have a matter of some sensitivity. Requiring a great deal of discretion.”

“If it pleases the captain…”

“I need you to run an investigation on someone.”

“Who?”

“Paki.”

“Shit.” Dina exhaled a slow, soft breath. She glanced around, checking to see if anyone could overhear them, as if Stacia hadn’t taken that precaution. “About what?”