Thumbelalien: A Space Age Fairy Tale

by J. M. Page

  But the transporter was still hungry. It sucked in air, pulling her towards it, bringing up terrifying memories of the time she was nearly inhaled by the vacuum cleaner. How had she escaped that time?

  Carpet. She’d grabbed hold of the carpet fibers and held on for dear life. But the smooth metal beneath her didn’t offer anything for her to hold onto.

  Lina flattened herself against the floor and fought against the pull, belly-crawling toward the control panel. Wind whipped her hair around, undoing the knot she’d tied earlier and blinding her.

  Whether she could see or not was irrelevant. The controls were too far away. The pull was too strong. She slid backwards, her skin squeaking against the metal as she tried to fight the tornado whirling around her.

  As strong as it felt to her, it wasn’t strong enough to stir any of the things on the workbench. The vast intake of air didn’t even rustle any of Mom’s carefully-organized papers. But still, it sucked Lina in, dragging her, her fingernails fighting for purchase.

  Tingles and pinpricks broke out on her skin as her feet were sucked into the purple light. She grabbed for the edge of the transporter ring, praying the thing would shut off and she’d be left here with her feet intact.

  Lightning arced and zapped her fingers and Lina’s hand jumped back, too fast to stop herself from letting go as she went tumbling through the transporter.

  Colors swirled all around her in a dizzying kaleidoscope where up and down had no meaning. She was simultaneously tumbling and floating, though no wind rushed around her. Instead, it was pure energy that crackled on all sides, the raw electricity pulling her hair to straight points and prickling on her skin.

  The sound was unlike anything she’d ever heard, too. Something between a frying pan sizzle and a rake over metal. It was both deafening and hard to hear over her own internal panic.

  There was nothing to see, no landmarks, no other objects floating in the colorful void, and Lina wasn’t sure she was being transported at all. It seemed to her like she was stuck, trapped in a place that wasn’t a place, going nowhere with no way to go back. No matter how hard she tried to move, no matter how loud she tried to scream, nothing happened. She didn’t move and she didn’t make a sound.

  What had she done? This was it, now. She’d be lost forever. Floating and falling, in an endless rainbow, until she just starved or something. It would take forever.

  She should have listened to Mom.

  But at least she still had that reminder of her. The diode clutched in her hand to keep her company and keep the darkness at bay. Not that it seemed like there was any darkness in this place.

  Then, strangely, she swore she heard voices. Birds chirping. The rustling of wind through leaves. She was going mad. Losing her mind already. That didn’t bode well for her slow and agonizing demise.

  But it wasn’t just the noises. There were smells, too. Damp earth and citrus-spiked sunshine. Flowers and fresh green wood. Perhaps dying here wouldn’t be so bad. At least at the end, she wouldn’t be trapped in that dank basement.

  She just had so many questions still, about who she was and where she came from. She’d brushed them aside for so long, thinking that she’d eventually find answers, but eventually seemed to have come without warning and it didn’t bring any answers with it.

  And Mom… Her chest tightened with the thought. Mom would be devastated. She’d scrap the whole project. She’d give up on her experiments and never get the recognition or accolades she deserved. Lina’s gut twisted. It was all her fault. She only wanted to help…

  Wind rushed through her hair now, fighting against the pull of static, pushing the silken strands around her face and neck. Maybe she’d strangle in her own hair before she starved. At least that would be quicker.

  The colors began to fade and the humming electricity died off to an insistent whine that gave way to the droning buzz of insects.

  All at once, like a bubble popping, Lina tumbled forward and face planted in the dirt.

  “Oof,” she groaned, spitting soil out and scrubbing a hand over her face. She wouldn’t be trying that again any time soon.

  She tried pulling herself to her feet, but the ground wavered under her and for a moment the whole world seemed topsy turvy, like she was hanging from the ceiling. Then, like someone took the universe by the corners and turned it around, everything was right again.

  This time, she stayed on the ground, her arms splayed, long blades of grass tickling her skin. Dappled sunlight filtered through a canopy of trees and kissed her back, warming her through. So this was heaven. She took a deep breath and inhaled the scent of life, of green things and nature.

  A bird whistled somewhere high above and Lina smiled at his song, her limbs feeling heavy and exhausted. Dying could really take a lot out of a girl.

  “What is it, Petey bird?” a voice said, light and musical, almost laughing.

  There were others in Lina’s heaven. That shouldn’t be so surprising, but after falling through the transporter and resigning herself to never seeing Mom ever again, she’d forgotten that others could be… here. Anywhere. She’d just thought she’d be alone forever. Thinking about it now felt a little ridiculous.

  She turned her head toward the sound but still didn’t pick herself up or make any attempt to move from the spot she landed. The grass was so soft, the soil too, like a feather bed. She didn’t want to move.

  The bird whistled some more and fluttered its wings, jumping from one tree branch to another, shaking the leaves.

  “What are you trying to show me, you silly boy?” the voice asked again, laughing in earnest now. “Do you want to play?”

  “Suriah! Where have you gone?” another voice rang out, this one more serious, deeper, decidedly masculine. “Mother is looking for you,” he said, sounding exasperated.

  Lina tried to prop herself on her elbows now, wondering who the people were and how close they’d gotten, but she plopped down again, her strength and energy sapped. At least the ground was warm and soft, she thought, her eyes sliding closed.

  “Shh,” the girl giggled again while the bird tweeted and hopped. “You’re going to give me away!”

  But it wasn’t the bird that was giving her location away, it was the laughter. So free and unfettered.

  “Suriah! This isn’t funny. It will be my rear in danger if you miss another engagement.” The grass rustled nearby. Too near. Lina hoped she’d be concealed by its long blades. She didn’t want to meet strangers or try to explain how she’d arrived in this place. When she’d pictured the afterlife in the past, she always imagined boundless energy, but all she wanted now was to sleep.

  “Suri— SURIE!” The sound through the grass was fast, urgent, like he was running. A touch on her shoulder startled Lina and she blinked turning her head as the man shook her gently.

  A man with a gentle touch… A man her size…

  “You’re not…” he breathed, sounding both relieved and more alarmed all at once.

  “What’s with all the serious— whoa… Who is that?” the laughing girl didn’t sound so happy now, but Lina couldn’t make out either of them. Her eyes wouldn’t open again, and sleep tugged her under its unforgiving tide, never giving her a chance to come up for air.

  “I don’t know, but we should get her to Farita. She doesn’t look good. Help me,” he said, rolling Lina onto her back and propping up her shoulders.

  All she could think of before unconsciousness claimed her completely, was how nice it felt to be touched by someone her own size.

  Chapter Three

  Warmth bloomed and flickered across her face and Lina opened her eyes slowly. They felt glued shut, but finally she managed to force them apart, blinking the world into focus.

  “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you,” said a familiar male voice. “Go back to sleep.”

  There was a fire coming to life near her bed — she realized she was on a bed, soft and pillowy, enveloped in a warm blanket. She pulled it up to her chi
n and blinked again as the man came into view. Tilted eyes sparkled green in the warm glow of the fire, ringed by thick eyelashes. High cheekbones and a solid, square jaw gave him a strong profile, but when he turned to face her, his expression was pure concern.

  “How are you feeling?” he asked, his tone soothing and gentle.

  Lina yawned and he chuckled. It shook his broad shoulders and lifted his full lips into a lopsided smile.

  “Right, of course. Sorry to have woken you. You were shivering in your sleep,” he said, waving absently toward the fire. “I’ll leave you to your rest.”

  There was something odd about all of this. About him. It took Lina’s sleepy mind a minute to catch up, but it did eventually.

  Everything was to her scale. The bed actually looked like a bed, not something carved from walnut shells. The fireplace was made of bricks the size of her hand, not three times larger than her body, and the man’s clothes — a white shirt with flowy sleeves and black pants that hugged his narrow waist and showed off impressively muscular legs; he looked like he was from another time — were stitched with such care that it was evident someone knew what they were doing. Lina’s own clothes were scraps of fabric Mom had gotten her, clumsily sewn with a needle and thread that dwarfed her.

  “Wait,” she called as he reached the door. Her voice was raw and dry and she cleared her throat. Bits and pieces of the day before started to filter in. “Where am I?”

  He stopped and frowned, his forehead creasing as he dragged a chair to her bedside. “Where are you from?”

  “My mother works for Central Cascadia Tech; I’ve always stayed in the lab.”

  Confusion marred his handsome face and Lina forced herself to a sitting position. “You have no idea where that is, do you?”

  Slowly, he shook his head.

  “Seattle?” she tried. Still nothing. “America? Earth?” Where had the transporter taken her?

  “Do you feel well enough to stand?” he asked.

  She nodded carefully. “Yes, I think so. Why?”

  “Come with me.”

  He stood and headed for the door again, this time pulling it open to let in a wash of silvery light. He stayed silhouetted in the door frame long enough to make sure she was able to get up on her own, and then he left.

  Lina’s legs felt like rubber and she wobbled, holding onto the bed for support as she made her way to the door. Even that was just the right size for her. Was this some sort of dream? A hallucination? Or was it really heaven?

  She reached into her pockets and found the battery and the diode that Mom had given her years ago. That connection to her past and to reality would have to be enough for now.

  She braced herself against the door jamb and inhaled sharply.

  Perched high in the treetops as they were, she could see for miles in all directions. But it wasn’t what was in the distance that had her breathless. All throughout the trees, lights glowed in windows, in lanterns hanging from poles, in strings draped across walkways. A network of bridges and boardwalks and balconies connected the community of treetop homes like a spider’s web. She looked down and spotted more of the same, levels and levels of it and when she tilted her head back, there were more bridges and houses above. While everything else seemed to her scale, the trees maintained the height and grandeur of those back on Earth.

  “Welcome to Mabnoa,” he said with a sweep of his arms. Lina leaned her forearms on the balcony railing and soaked in the warm summer air, the scent of night-blooming jasmine, and the kiss of silvery moonlight on her skin. Moonlight from a moon that was clearly not the same one she was used to seeing from her grimy window. It was an odd shape, much larger in the sky, dotted with craters, but mostly smooth.

  “It’s beautiful,” she said on a sigh, watching the wind rustle the tops of trees. Humming insects filled the air with their song, and in the far-off distance, waves winked with starlight as they brushed against a lakeshore.

  She felt tiny, but not in the normal way. It wasn’t because everything was too big for her, it was because the whole universe was too big. Everything she’d ever known or seen was somewhere so far away she had no idea how she’d ever get back.

  “Thank you, we’re very happy here,” he said, standing at her side. He smelled like cedar, or maybe pine. Woodsy, earthy, male. Lina had never met anyone close to her age, or anywhere near her height — and certainly not a boy. For the first time, she was recognizing how much she’d missed that, even though she hadn’t known it.

  “I’m Lina,” she said, not looking at him. He was too handsome. She’d managed to get past it in her sleepy haze, but now she was sure she’d be tongue-tied if he fixed her with that warm jade gaze.

  “Bain,” he said, turning with an outstretched hand. Lina looked at his hand for a moment before deciding to take it. She’d seen her fair share of handshakes before, but how did it actually work? Who initiated the actual shaking? And how hard was she meant to hold on? She’d heard once that the strength of a man’s handshake spoke to his confidence, but was she supposed to fake that, because she wasn’t feeling very confident at the moment. She felt lost and far from home. She was on another world and out of her depth and she felt it immensely.

  But when she slipped her hand into Bain’s, that all went away. He gripped her hand lightly and brought it up to his mouth, kissing the back of it with a warm press of his lips. “Well met, Lina.”

  She pulled her hand away, but it was already too late; already warmth spread up her arm, coursing through her bloodstream until it reached her face, her cheeks glowing red.

  “I’m sure you’re still tired from your journey,” he said, as if he had any idea what her journey had entailed. But he seemed content to not ask too many questions right now, which she appreciated.

  “Now that you’ve mentioned it,” she said, stifling a yawn behind her hand. “I am.”

  “Farita will have my behind if she finds out I coaxed you out of bed.”

  Lina just tilted her head to the side in a silent question. Bain shook his head.

  “She’s the head healer. Very good at what she does, but very strict. And she doesn’t suffer fools that meddle with the healing process. You’re supposed to be recovering.”

  Lina’s mouth twisted into a smile. “I wouldn’t want to get you in any trouble,” she said.

  “Wouldn’t be the first time,” he said with an answering grin. “Come on then.” He headed back across the wide balcony into the room where the fire had now grown to a dull roar. He pulled the blankets on the bed back and gestured toward it. “In you get.”

  Lina suppressed a giggle at his mock-seriousness and sidled past him. “What, are you going to tuck me in?” she asked. He was still holding the corner of the blanket in the air.

  “Of course I am. I’m the one that discovered you. It’s my duty to make sure you’re well taken care of.”

  Lina wriggled down into the mattress and Bain pulled the blankets up to her shoulders, tucking the edges in around her sides.

  “There we go. Farita will never know the difference.”

  Already the warmth and comfort of the bed was reminding Lina how tired she was. Apparently being flung across space through a matter transporter could take a lot out of a girl. She yawned and rolled over, pressing her face into the impossibly-soft pillow.

  She didn’t think of much as she drifted off to sleep, but she thought of Bain’s easy smile and then realized she’d never heard him leave…

  Chapter Four

  When Lina awoke again, bright sunlight filtered through the windows and she stayed put, basking in the warmth. The crackle and smoke of the fire were gone, but the room was bathed in glorious sun. What more could she ask for?

  She didn’t move and didn’t open her eyes, content to just be for a moment before she had to face reality again. Before she had to face the fact that she wasn’t home, and she didn’t know where she was or how she’d ever get back. For a moment at least, she could pretend that she was still drea
ming.

  But there were hushed, clipped whispers that kept her firmly rooted to the here and now. She strained to hear them.

  “You shouldn’t have stayed here all night. You look terrible.” It was an unfamiliar voice and she sounded annoyed.

  “Thank you. I feel quite wonderful.” Bain. That was his voice, she was sure of it.

  A huff from the woman. “You can’t meet the delegation looking like—”

  “I’m not meeting the delegation,” he said.

  A high-pitched whine of protest came from the older woman. “You must! Your mother will have us both strung up.”

  “I’d rather be here… Looking after our guest.”

  Another huff. “Oh great. Just let the Queen know I can’t do my job without her shiftless son’s help,” she grumbled. Then, affecting a high-pitched mocking tone she added, “Oh Farita used to be the greatest healer in all the land, but she’s lost her touch. Needs Prince Bain to keep watch over her charges lest they perish in the night. Come to think of it, we should just make Bain the healer and—”

  “Farita,” he sighed, “that’s not what I’m—”

  Lina chose that moment to yawn and stretch as if she were only just waking. Listening any longer seemed wrong and at least if she was awake, perhaps she could prevent anyone getting into any trouble on her account.

  “Oh! You’re awake,” Farita cried, clapping her hands as she bustled over to the bed, fluffing pillows under Lina’s head. “How are you feeling dear? Any pain? Nausea? Are you thirsty? Hungry?”

  Farita was a plump woman, a bit shorter than Lina — what an odd thing! — with a beehive of silver hair atop her head. Her cheeks were full and rosy and on the tip of her nose she wore a dainty pair of spectacles that made her sky-blue eyes twinkle. A glittering gold chain attached to the spectacles and wrapped behind her neck and from there down, she wore a flowing robe the same color of her eyes.