As he passed by his bedroom, he paused. The isolation pod looked welcoming. He barely had energy to make it this far- maybe he could wait until tomorrow to fix the grav-boost. If he didn’t sleep, he wasn’t going to have enough energy to try and fix the ship anyway.

Any excuse to just lay his head down and get a moment of rest.

The emergency lights flickered again, and he decided the fix could wait. If he went to sleep and it got worse, maybe he wouldn’t have to wake up. If nothing happened, then he’d be well rested- better able to focus.

Yeah, sleep was the right choice.

He slid into the room as the isolation pod hissed open. He struggled getting into it without gravity, but eventually managed. The lid slid over his face, and the silence enveloped him. He knew there was still chaos out there, but in here was a sanctuary.

The only thing able to plague him was his thoughts.

He touched the keypad next to his head, and a small hexagonal window opened. The room shimmered turquoise as he stared out into the vastness of Centurai-14. At least it was the color of home.

He wondered if they were looking for him, or if they had given up all hope. He wanted to believe someone was trying, but deep down, he knew – he was a grain of sand in an endless desert, and they would never find him.

His eyelids raised slowly- the turquoise had transformed to a seaweed green- and he scanned the window beside his bed. The colors of the galaxy changed before him, like a kaleidoscope. The green faded to an aquamarine, indigo, and a fantastic blue. Then suddenly, it began to darken. As the ship plummeted toward the center of the galaxy, the colors nearly vanished. The navy turned to a dark purple, and then an all-encompassing black.

The room descended into darkness, and he was left with one flickering lamp in the hall. Fear gripped the edges of his being. He tried to move, but realized he was frozen inside the isolation pod. Something wrenched at his heart- guilt and fear- and all he could do was watch.

Staring out the window, he could sense it- there was something out there, resting in the depths of space. Something ancient, older than the universe itself. It was calling to him- watching- constantly letting him know he was never going to escape.

His eyes grew wide as a dark outline- massive, even in the pitch black- came into view. It approached the window and wrapped itself around the ship. As the metal was wrenched apart, he was sucked into the endless pitch black.

The warning lights flashed, and Jared startled awake, nearly smacking his head against the window of the isolation pod- turquoise and a shiny white now coated the room. He punched a few numbers into the pad next to him, and the window closed.

He couldn’t tell if he was still dreaming.

The isolation pod hissed open, and he sat up, cringing at the screaming siren. The shadows were warped and twisted as the lights flickered on and off chaotically. He bumped around a bit- still feeling disconnected from his body- as he floated. The cool metal of the crawl handle reminded him he was indeed awake.

Climbing his way through the ship, he moved as fast as he could toward the cockpit. Nearly jumping into the captain’s chair, he scanned the panels, and his heart sank- the grav-boost had fractured, and a piece of it was lodged into the oxygen support.

He didn’t have much time.

He shut down everything and let the ship hover. Once all the power was diverted, he raced toward the airlock. The corridors seemed to grow longer as he moved, and the flickering lights twisted the darkness into odd shapes.

He struggled getting into the cumbersome spacesuit. It felt like a million eyes turned to him, and were now laughing as he struggled. The helmet dropped, and the hiss- along with a breath of static-flavored air- signaled he was locked in. As he stepped into the airlock, he felt something calling to him- that same feeling from his dream.

No, there was nothing out there. Just the vast emptiness of infinite space.

Somehow, that seemed worse.

He slid into the stars, holding the outside of the ship as he clipped on. He closed his eyes and took one deep breath, letting go of the side of the ship and giving himself some slack- a few yards was all he needed.

The line went tight, and the worst part was done.

He hung in space for a moment- always amazed at how inferior he truly was. He squinted his eyes, trying to focus. A little blue dot- almost disappearing into the tapestry of color- blinked back. It steadily grew, as if he were being pulled toward it. The sphere filled his viewfinder, the reflection of its beautiful waters casting a large blue glare across his helmet. A large swath of clouds crossed one side of the blue marble, while the other was coated in darkness.

He recognized the planet- Earth! He gasped and nearly cheered. He was home. No, wait, that made no sense. He was in the Centurai galaxy, not the Milkyway. All of a sudden, a giant comet- coma streaking green- appeared from within the turquoise galaxy. He could do nothing but watch as it approached.

It smashed into the dark side of the globe, and the whole planet shuddered. The crust rippled like a wave. Tiny explosions- all over as volcanoes erupted. Debris flew into the atmosphere, and a plume of dust, dirt, and fire climbed towards the heavens.

He didn’t realize he was screaming until he snapped awake, covered in sweat.

Captain Jared Monsanto sat up in his bed and looked around. The ship creaked and groaned around him, and the door to his bedroom slid open. Melly entered carrying a tray of breakfast- poached eggs and ham- and stopped in her tracks as she saw him.

“Everything okay, Captain?”

He barely glanced at her. “Everything is fine. Leave the tray, please.”

She nodded and placed his breakfast on a small end table. “You sure you don’t need to talk? It’s a big day, and I can only imagine the type of pressure you’re under.”

He was staring off into space, still processing his dream. They always happened like this- multilayered and confusing. No, it wasn’t confusing at all. He knew exactly what he was running from.

“Sir?”

He snapped out of it. “I appreciate it, Melly.”

“Yes, sir. We’re here for you. You have to know that. At least, I am.” She stepped closer to him, but froze as he flicked his eyes her way. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to pry. I just- I can’t imagine what you’ve got on your mind.”

Everyone always wanted to know what he was thinking. Could he trust her? No, if he told her, she’d never trust him again. “Thank you, Private. I am thankful you are part of the crew. You’ve always been a grounding presence.”

Melly looked disappointed at his professionalism. “Thank you, Captain.”

He stood, turning away from her. “Well, I’d better get ready for today.”

“They didn’t pick you for nothing.” She shuffled a bit, trying to find the right words. “The whole world is watching, and after this, you’ll be history. How does it make you feel?”

He thought about it- for the first time, truly thought about it. He’d been so focused on the mission, on the crew, he hadn’t really contemplated what came after.

The thought of it brought him misery.

They’d given him this mission as his last. The Department of War told him it was time and that he didn’t have a choice. He tried to convince himself it would be an honorable retirement: He’d accomplish the first space walk under the new United Earth, go on a press tour afterwards, be written into the history books, and disappear.

But the truth- he didn’t want it, and he wasn’t ready. He deserved a hero’s death. A military death. Something, anything, other than dying alone- living the rest of his days, isolated, with nothing more than a legacy that everyone would eventually forget.

It was no way to live- or die.

“It makes me feel honored.” He went with the stoic answer. The one they all expected. “Now, if you don’t mind, I must get ready.”

Melly nodded and paused at the door. “It’s an honor to be a part of this as well, Captain.” She postured up and saluted before retreating.

He took his time, watching the darkness of space pass by, and trying to eat his breakfast. His dreams made it so much more beautiful. Up here, there was nothing- infinite darkness.

All eyes were on him.

The crew saluted as he passed. He thought about offering a smile or a handshake, but instead kept his head down. He tried to ignore the pounding of his heart against his ribs, but nothing would block out the sound.

He’d felt this before- during war, but something was different this time.

It felt more… definitive.

The helmet hissed into place- just like in his dreams. He sucked in a large breath of static air as Melly gave him a thumbs-up. He nodded inside the helmet and turned to the airlock. He could hear command in his ear- they wanted him to narrate and entertain the public- so he turned them off.

This was going to happen his way.

He clipped himself to the ship and walked out into empty space. The weightless feeling from his dream took over, and he lingered above the planet- one tiny speck amongst the darkness.

The giant blue sphere cast a comforting blue and turquoise reflection across his viewfinder as the com-light blinked red. White clouds covered a quarter of the globe- a distant flash of a thunderstorm somewhere within. The sun illuminated one side as the other laid in darkness. If everyone could see Earth from this point of view, they’d realize how truly inferior their problems were.

And then suddenly, it all became clear- a true epiphany. He was only one speck in the infinite universe. There was something greater out there, and he’d been avoiding it his entire life. This is where it was always leading.

With the whole world watching, he unclipped himself from the shuttle and drifted off into the void.

Ok, I’ll try to unpack this as best as I can but please bear in mind that we are talking about 5,000 years of human history here, so this is going to be a very abridged history, or we could be here for weeks, so my apologies if I skip over anything important

Firstly, what we think of as “China” is actually a fairly modern concept relatively speaking, and for most of its history, China was a mish-mash of different states, factions, tribes and ethnic groups all vying for power and control

There were periods of peace under Emperors such as 秦始皇 Qín Shǐ Huáng, who managed to unify what is now “China”, only for factions to break away again violently

One of the most formative times in China’s history is literally called, “The Warring States Period”, which gives you an idea of how things were

This independent and fractious nature of early to mid-era China is easily visible in the language map of Modern China, which is in itself a hodge-podge of different languages and dialects which have evolved over time from various different ethnic and tribal groups that occupied the various states and provinces we now call “China”

/

/

The Origins of “Mandarin”

Mandarin grew out of the dialects of Northern China, specifically the dialect spoken around Běijīng (formerly Peking), and while this isn’t a perfect analogy, it is the Chinese equivalent of British Received Pronunciation

That is to say it was the language used by the wealthy and educated elites in Běijīng, who wielded the political power and control over China, and so Mandarin became the language of power and influence in China

Since the Communist Revolution in China, the language of Mandarin has been called 普通话 pǔtōnɡhuà or “The Common Tongue”, in an attempt to sever these old imperial connotations and make the language seem more egalitarian and, well “Communist”

However it’s former name 官话 guānhuà or “The Language of The Officials”, betrays it’s more elitist origins

Just like Received Pronunciation in Britain, 普通话 pǔtōnɡhuà is considered the “correct” form of Chinese, and is the form of Chinese taught in schools, and used on television and radio news broadcasts

It would be very odd to turn on BBC News in the UK and hear the news anchor open with:

“Wha’gwan rudeboi,

Dere was bare scenes in London today fam, as hella man get shank, dem Babylon still no catch da raasclaat”

Now while I’d definitely watch more news if we had an MLE/Patois speaking anchor, the BBC still insist on Received Pronunciation for their news anchors, as it is considered the most accessible and understandable dialect of English, even if it isn’t widely spoken outside of a small pocket of Southern England

The same is true in China, and 普通话 pǔtōnɡhuà remains the language of politics and news broadcasts, even if the average Chinese person in the street may speak a far more colloquial dialect of Chinese

Indeed, China is so large and populous, that individual cities often have their own unique dialect of idioms, slang and colloquialisms, that can make it seem like a different language entirely, when really it’s just a hyper localised and colloquial dialect of Mandarin

/

/

So Why Do We Call It Mandarin?

Mandarin went on a long linguistic journey to arrive in the English language, but it essentially refers to a bureaucratic scholar who aided the government, while not perfect, a modern analogy would be a civil servant

In China, these “Mandarin” were called 官 guān or “officials”, the same origin as the original name of Mandarin Chinese, 官话 guānhuà or “The Language of The Officials”

A “Mandarin” or 官 guān , date unknown (pre-1911)

China had several periods of political isolation, where it closed its borders and refused any international trade

One such period was the 清朝 Qīngcháo, or Qing Dynasty (c.1640 to 1912), where China opened just one single port for all international trade, the port of Canton, which is now known as 广州 Guǎngzhōu

The Port of Canton is the origin name of the other major Chinese language, Cantonese

China was extremely protective of Canton and was very selective on who they would and wouldn’t trade with, and would only trade via government sanctioned merchants

This led to a trade imbalance and the beginning of a bitter trade war between Britain and China that led Britain to flood China with opium, leading to the Opium Wars

This isolationism and trade hostility meant that Britain had to funnel much of its trade via the Portuguese enclave on Macau, southwest of the port of Canton/Guǎngzhōu on the Pearl River estuary

Portugal had a presence on Macau since 1557, and remained there as recently as 1999

If you visit Macau today, you will still find it a fascinating mix of Chinese, Iberian and British influences

As Britain was trading with this Portuguese enclave from the early 1600s onwards, Britain adopted many of its Chinese terms from the Portuguese, including this word Mandarin for the Chinese bureaucrats

Mandarin is actually a corruption of the Portuguese word “Mandarim”, which they borrowed and corrupted from the Malay word “Menteri”, which they borrowed from the Sanskrit language “Mantrī”

Regardless whether it was Mandarin, Mandarim, Menteri or Mantrī, the meaning was always the same, a “counsellor or advisor”

As European traders, especially British traders, had come to call these government officials “Mandarins”, the governmental language they spoke also became known as Mandarin Chinese, the form of Chinese spoken by these Mandarins

In a rather delicious piece of book-ending, that is the exact same origin as the old Chinese word for the language, 官话 guānhuà or “The Language of The Officials”

But it’s rarely worth the risk now. Not like the old days when people were written off as insane. My favorite was when people believed, some even saw you, and they had enough respect to pay tribute. You didn’t have to siphon here and there, just enough to keep going on to the next place.

Glimpses, I’m guessing fragments of the movie, took shape in the woman’s mind. A darkened alleyway with the sheen of a recent rain painted the scene. Cornered and starting to panic, a woman backed her way into a brick alleyway. Why do they always do that? Silly animals, humans. Multiple male figures, features as dark as the alley, but otherwise undifferentiated, blocked her only exit. Screaming, she runs face first into the brick wall behind her.

Visions shift to another scene, this time a corn field outside of town. Same set of men chasing the same woman. Must have been a cheesy horror flick. But they don’t make ‘em like they used to anymore. I sighed. Guess now is as good a time as any. Eyes closed, yes I have eyes, though not in the way a human expects; I sniffed the dream air and followed the scent to where it originated. Dreams are kept in the same part of the brain, but each person is different so the path to get there is also. At the edge of the nightmare, the vision changed from the scene itself to a dim gray emptiness. Here it is.

A golden orb floated in the gray, unattached and unmoving. Willing my spirit form, I reached out a tendril of power towards the orb. As we connected, power surged into me. It tasted like what I imagined mulberry’s would, though I had never eaten physical food. It was sweet, dark, and a little tangy.

Outside, the woman’s body stirred. Humans never like the feel of the contact, even though it doesn’t actually hurt them. This is what makes it dangerous though, the mind fights the intrusion. Time to go. Snapping out of her body, I regained my position in the dark corner of the ceiling over looking the sleeping couple. She rolled over, curling into her husband.

I left their house through the crack under the front door. Drifting past houses, still dark with sleep. There should be enough time for another. My senses spread like veins as I passed each house, searching for my next meal. Aha, there.

Floating up the porch steps and sliding under the door I paused and listened. It was a male this time, and I could sense the dream had just started. Into the room I went, hovering over his still form, sheets had been cast off and sweat beaded his forehead.

Dim gray light, an austere room. A cell, maybe? It had a single bed and sink, turning I saw the man with his fists pounding the glass “wall”. There were no doors. He looked around the room and then up. Spotting an opening, he removed the A/C vent, pulled the bed directly underneath and pulled himself up and into the duct. Following him, the duct collapsed as he crossed into the next room over. He tumbled out onto the floor, where a scuffle ensued with the occupant. I lost interest in the show unfolding and began my search.

At the edge of the cell block the light faded into a deep black void. Here. Once the the dream faded to black the orb appeared and I again reached my power towards it. At contact, I was pushed out of his subconscious and for a moment hovered over his body, which was twitching as if electrocuted, before being pulled back in down the tether of power that had initially connected us. Guess I better be quick with this one. His subconscious was fighting me, so I pulled the energy hard and fast. Outside, his body had progressed from twitching into bucking, so I severed the connection, shooting out of his subconscious bouncing off the floor to the ceiling where I stayed waiting for the man’s dream to settle. Instead, he jolted upright in bed.

“Who’s there?!” He said looking around and wiping the sleep from his eyes. “Show yourself!”

Silence stretched for several heart beats before his breathing slowed and he relaxed back onto the bed.

“Just a dream. Get yourself together John, the house is empty. As usual.” His lids fluttered shut as he pulled the covers up and over his head.

That was too close. I thought as I glided out of the house. The light glow of dawn was just peaking through as I floated through the still dim street. Towards the end, there was a dense patch of trees far enough away from people and the every day goings on, so I found a nice patch of shadow and rested. As I listened to the birds chirp, the air shifted around me and the landscape changed.

I was back in my realm, the realm of dreams. It isn’t like the physical realm of the humans, the dream realm is more of a collective consciousness of all beings that dwell here. I floated through several dream spaces; a coming baby, a human flying, a big promotion. This was the hope level. Coming to the central space which was a vortex leading through all dreams levels, I followed it down to the processing floor.

Processing was made of a churning, moist mist resembling a cloud formation and as we added our dreams to the mix, little bursts of lightning would spark between them. Eventually, the process would push the cloudy visions up level after level, continuously adding to our home.

Exiting the way I came, I returned to the human realm. Night already blanketed the streets, the moon an amber sliver between the trees. Lights still illuminated many of the windows. My senses picked up a house filled with enough negative energy that I was sure would result in a nightmare. Gliding under the door, I explored the house. Immaculate, verging on sterile. The master bedroom was modern and dim with accent lights, but there was a nice spot just above the bed in the corner of the ceiling.

Waiting, but not for long, the wife came into the room and prepared for bed. She kept looking over at me from mirror she used while attending to her nightly skin regimen. Another sensitive, I should tread carefully. Thinning myself along the crevice so I didn’t darken the shadows quite as much, I watched her finish up and headed towards the bed.

“Relax Janet, you’re just imagining things. Shadows are just shadows. There are no red eyes, just normal shadows. Go to sleep.” She said, fluffing her pillow and getting under the sheets.

Grumbling as she got comfortable, “You would probably be more at ease if your husband was home to check the house and not fucking his secretary at the office late into the night. But what can you do.”

She adjusted her eye mask over her face and instantly fell asleep, it wasn’t long after that before short dreams flitted behind her eyelids. I waited until the sleep deepened and she was the least likely to startle when I fed. Here we go.

Two people, tangled in sheets, a third steps out of the darkness with gun drawn and aimed at the others. So much blood. The sheets, originally white, reddened with the crumpled figures. The woman stood shaking, the look on her face said she debated turning the gun on herself, but instead it clattered to the ground as she fell holding her hands to her face. I left the bedroom scene as it started to morph. The edge of the dreams melted into a pale pink light, misting like blood rain all around. Her orb was more hidden than the others, but after groping for it in the mist a moment, I found it. As I began to siphon the energy, her physical form bolted up right with eyes wide open.

“Who’s there?! Jack, is that you? Are you home?” Panting slightly, she gingerly stepped out of bed. I was partially expelled from her psyche but still connected through her dream which meant she was more likely to know when she saw me. Besides I was tethered to her so I couldn’t easily hide, so I choose to stick to her back, just out of sight.

“I can feel you, show yourself!”

Impossible. Right? I’m not able to touch humans, I usually just pass right through them if we happen to run into each other. Maybe because we are still connected? I need her to fall back asleep before she starts draining my energy instead. With only a tendril still connected, I kept to the shadows as she moved through the house, checking for anyone or anything not supposed to be there.

We are not designed to stay straddled between the physical world and the subconscious mind, so as she pulled me with her, our energy created a spark and like a matchstick the ceiling caught fire. She screamed and ran through the house, my Smokey form trailing behind, and a string of fire that only grew hungrier as we went.

Thunk. Thud. Unconscious, she fell after running head first into the front door. I snapped back into her mind, siphoning every once of energy I could take as quickly as possible and snapped out. The house was fully aflame as I slid under the door.