May Bird Among the Stars by Peter Ferguson, Jodi Lynn Anderson, Sammy Yuen Jr., Christopher Grassi

still continued to snore). They were sure, every time they turned a corner on the Screamerplatz or walked along the banks of the Corkscrew River or wound their way toward their graves at midnight to haunt Earth, that Commander Berzerko would be there, ready to do … well, the thing that Commander Berzerko did best.
    And though they had good reason to be fearful, they need not have gone through all the trouble, for by the first evening of her release, Commander Berzerko was not in South Place at all, but at a teleporter in the abandoned town of Cleevilville #135.
    The commander stepped out of the booth and took a good look around.
    Her fluffy black fur stood high around her pudgy figure, lush and voluminous. Her long black tail bobbed coquettishly, like a pom-pom. Her fur was more than four inches long and standing up in all directions, making her look like a round black marshmallow or a fluffy black Butterball turkey on Thanksgiving Day.
    A tiny, delicate pink bow was positioned jauntily by one black ear. Her whiskers were long and wistful, her eyes wide,green, and irresistible. She wore a glittering collar of black diamonds.
    She lifted her head to sniff the air, revealing the glossy white teeth poking out of her jowls, and said one simple word: “Meow.”
    With the scent of the living cat fresh in her nose, Commander Berzerko headed north.

Chapter Ten
The Stranger
    A re you looking for something?”
    May jolted and stepped backward, tightening her death shroud. “Oh!”
    The spirit wore a dark, wide-brimmed hat, its shadow hiding his eyes and cheeks and revealing only a rough, scarred chin and a pair of curled, dry lips. The lips rose in a sneer.
    â€œDidn’t mean to startle you,” he said. May rocked back slightly on her heels. His breath smelled sour.
    â€œThat’s okay.” She gulped, blinking at him, her throat dry. He nodded toward the viewfinder.
    â€œI see you were taking in the view.”
    May swallowed. “Uh-huh. Yes. It’s, um … pretty?”
    He let out a low, gravelly laugh. He drifted past her and cast a desultory glance beyond the cliff.
    â€œI don’t find it all that pretty myself. Rather annoyingly”—he raised his arms and lowered them in a graceful shrug—“vast, I think. Too much space for me. Or maybe it’s too little of
me
for all that space. It makes me feel … small. Like a speck.” He turned toward her, and his lip curled again. “Do you ever feel like a speck, boy?”
    May swallowed. It took her a moment to realize that she was still in her warrior costume and that, indeed, she still looked like a boy. And then she tried to focus on the question. She remembered how far away the mountains of the north had seemed to her just a few days ago—how the distance made her feel like a speck. “Sometimes,” she answered.
    The stranger’s mouth turned down gently and coldly. He looked out at the stars again. Something about him made May very sad.
    â€œWe
are
just Stardust after all.” He looked at May, then let out a cold, bitter laugh.
    â€œWhat do you mean?” May ventured.
    He looked at her as if she should already know the answer. “That is what all creatures great and small are made of. Leftover stardust. An atom exploded, and all the dust became the planets, the stars … and us. That’s all anything amounts to.”
    May considered this. She actually liked the idea that she might be made out of stars. She passed her hand over her death shroud thoughtfully.
    â€œYou never answered my question.”
    â€œQuestion?”
    â€œAre you
looking
for something?”
    â€œOh, no, nooo, just …” She looked at her feet. She shifted from one to the other. “Sightseeing.”
    â€œOh?” He focused on her intently now. His angular features—the ones she could see—struck her for the first time as very handsome for someone
old.
Older than old.