Dance Until the World Ends

by Davina Lee

  “Why does everyone think I almost got blown up?” Lina hustled around to the stern end, pushing with all her might. Her mentor might be a diploid nearly twice her size, but Lina refused to put all of the burden of readying the craft on the old woman. “It wasn’t even near me.”

  “Near enough to drop the blast shield. That’s what I heard.”

  “Pssh.” Lina waved her hand. “Standard precaution, that’s all.”

  Nothing else was said as Lina’s mentor dusted off the deep black, solar heat exchanger, that doubled as the vessel’s roof on the center shelter, and loosed the port side air bladder from its protective storage pod. She pressed the locking end of the bladder’s aft hose to the matching collar on the heat exchanger. With a quarter twist, it was secured. The fore hose was next.

  “Do you want me to do the starboard side, Mentor?”

  Lina got her answer as soon as her mentor pulled forth the priming bellows.

  “I’ve found that inflating the bladders is becoming increasing difficult at my advanced age.” Lina’s mentor smirked slightly as she stepped around to the starboard side and began unpacking the air bladder over there. “You, on the other hand, possess all the gifts of youth.”

  Lina grinned, thinking about how Mentor had been ready to single-handedly pull the skimmer from storage when Lina showed up, but now that it came time to fill the bladders, she was suddenly old and frail. Lina sighed, and set herself to the arduous task of inflating the bladders.

  Because of her smaller size, Lina placed the bellows on the ground and steadied the lower handle by standing on it with one foot. She gripped the upper handle with both hands and got to work. In her mind’s eye, Lina pictured Arabel still lounging on the couch in her apartment, and began to grumble.

  “Perhaps we should sing a song,” her mentor said, “to make your toiling easier.”

  Lina’s grumbling increased, two-fold.

  “Something I used to sing to you when you were young. You were so fussy to get to sleep sometimes.”

  Lina kept at the bellows, but her grumbling began to fade. Her mentor was absentmindedly scenting as she hummed, and the pheromones of love and compassion that she cast were enough to put Lina in a calmer mood—calm enough that she didn’t even care that the old woman was scenting in public again.

  Soon the bladders were filled with enough warm air that they began to rise on their own accord. Her mentor never did start singing as threatened, but she continued her humming, and soon transitioned to a melody that Lina recognized from her younger years. It was enough to put a smile on Lina’s face, and Mentor was right, it did make the task of inflating the bladders feel like a little less of a chore.

  Lina straightened up and wiped the sweat from her brow. With both bladders high in the air now, tugging at the rigging that held them fast to the skimmer’s side planks, the convection flow had become self-sufficient and no more pumping was required. The cloud skimmer would remain aloft until they brought it back in to port, or until nightfall when the sun’s rays no longer provided the heat needed to buoy the craft.

  Lina had no intention of being out until sunset. What she really wanted was to snuggle back into Arabel’s warm embrace and sleep away the afternoon. Lina closed up the bellows and slid it into its proper place on the skimmer.

  Lina’s mentor was already aboard and reaching for the long push pole that would guide them away from the pier and into the clouds. Once Lina had the bellows secure, and tied into her safety harness, she stood on the stern with the push pole that Mentor passed to her, and shoved the skimmer free of the rock pier.

  Lina watched her mentor moving quite spryly as she ducked under the skimmer’s shelter and moved to the fore of the craft to haul out the port and starboard lugsails. Not much longer than Mentor herself, but twice as tall when unfurled, the main drive sails sat comfortably forward and well below the bulging air bladders.

  “Will you raise the mizzen, dear?” Mentor said, and Lina began to haul up the smaller sail toward the rear that would help steady and steer the craft.

  “Got it,” Lina said.

  “Now isn’t this a lovely change from being in those dreary old tunnels all day?”

  Lina said nothing. She wished Mentor would go back to humming, to bring back the carefree memories of her childhood, but she felt too embarrassed to ask.

  “Humankind was meant to be free,” Mentor was saying. “In the open air. Not closed up in tunnels. If the queen had any sense—”

  “Mentor, please. Don’t talk like that, you’ll get yourself in trouble.”

  “Lina, dear. No one pays much attention to the talk of a senile old woman.” Mentor patted Lina’s hand, and whether intentional or not, she began scenting calm and love. “Besides, with the wind, we’re too far from shore to be heard.”

  Lina looked around, marveling at how far away from the colony they were now. Lost in Mentor’s humming and calming pheromones, she had let her surroundings drift around and past her, not paying any attention.

  “I suppose it is beautiful,” Lina said. She scanned the horizon, with its thick puffy clouds all around, some of the wisps even making their way over the side deck to curl around her feet before being carried away on the breeze.

  Lina basked in the warm sun from high above and just behind. She was transported back to the carefree days of her youth—a time when her only task was to absorb the knowledge and history that was passed down from Mentor to her. And that, at least as far as Lina’s mentor was concerned, included the traditional art of cloud skimming.

  Lina had learned the basic principles of steering, and the science at work that kept them afloat on the clouds. She understood how Mentor’s series of tacking maneuvers, alternately dipping the port and starboard mainsails, allowed them to effectively sail directly into the wind using a zigzag path. Taking this course on the way out meant they could have a more leisurely time heading back in, simply letting the skimmer drift.

  “It’s very peaceful, isn’t it?” Mentor said, breaking the silence.

  Lina nodded. “Mm-hmm.”

  In the beginning, Lina had hoped for a short trip, but now, being in the presence of her mentor again, the woman who had raised her from birth, Lina began to change her mind. Lina felt a certain warmth and calm, and it wasn’t just from Mentor’s lingering pheromones. It was something she had never experienced with anyone else except for Arabel, and that was only after they got the mating passion out of their systems and were too tired to do anything else but enjoy each other’s company.

  Lina sighed contentedly, and settled her eyes on the main sails billowing in the breeze.

  “Did you raise any children after me?” Lina asked.

  “You were the only one,” Mentor said. “You were special.”

  Lina snickered. “Don’t you mean that after a haploid runt like me, you couldn’t face the thought of raising another?”

  “We’re all the queen’s children, dear. Diploid, haploid, it doesn’t matter. No, you’re special in your own way.”

  “Mm-hmm.” Lina said.

  “See how tiny the colony looks from this distance?”

  Lina turned to face aft, raising a hand to her forehead and squinting against the sun. She could just make out the dark, rocky peaks poking through the fluffy blanket of white.

  “If you start spouting some mentor wisdom about how, just like a haploid, even though it’s small, it’s got so much to offer on the inside…Well, then, I’m jumping straight out of this boat.” Lina chuckled as she said it.

  “Suit yourself, dear, but it’s a long way down.”

  Lina sighed and draped her hand on Mentor’s arm. “I miss this.”

  Mentor reached to pat Lina’s hand. “Me too.”

  “So what do you think you’ll find down there?” Mentor asked.

  “Hmm?”

  “When you throw yourself overboard to escape my chattering, of course. What do you think you’ll find?”

  “Umm, let’s see…choking gasses,
jagged rocks, certain death.” Lina coughed. “Do you have any water?”

  Mentor reached into a storage compartment to pull out a jiggling bota bag of water. She handed it off to Lina. “I packed a picnic lunch, too. You could probably use it after last night.”

  “Last night…” Lina said. She took a long pull on the bag of water and started reliving the events in her mind. Last night was incredible, exhilarating, full of frenetic energy. Today seemed painfully laggard in comparison, but somehow just as satisfying. Lina thought she should be sure to bring Arabel cloud sailing next time, even if she had to drag her along.

  Mentor began digging around in the storage area of the boat again. She removed another bota bag of water and a small picnic basket that smelled heavily of ripe fruit. “Be a dear and open that up, won’t you?”

  Lena untied the cord and lifted the lid, reveling a basket full of rough-skinned, perfectly ripe lychee fruit.

  “Aw, Mentor,” Lina said, “these were my favorite when I was little. I haven’t had one in…I don’t know how long.”

  “There was an old drone who sailed these clouds. He would bring lychee from his home island to sell. They were more expensive than I could afford, but he would always give me a dozen or so in exchange for baskets that I would weave and repair for him.” Lina’s mentor was scenting again—something between fondness and joy. “It was a good arrangement. And how could I not? You absolutely adored the fruit.”

  Lina peeled away the rough, reddish-pink rind to expose the tender white flesh inside. She bent forward and drew in a lungful of the sweet aroma before splitting the fruit in two, offering half to Mentor and bringing the other half to her own lips for a bite.

  “What do you suppose happened to him?” Lina asked.

  “Oh, I’m sure he’s passed on by now. Drones don’t have much of a lifespan, you know.”

  Lina nodded as she chewed. “How come nobody else took up his business, I wonder?”

  “Strange isn’t it? There’s another colony only a day’s journey away. Nobody really visits anymore.” Lina’s mentor sighed. “And it’s really only us old folks that appreciate cloud sailing anyway. Everyone else is so busy with life in the tunnels.”

  In Lina’s mind, it was probably because the younger generation was too busy working instead of being retired with all day to do whatever they pleased, but she soon regretted the thought. This was a long overdue outing with her mentor and Lina didn’t want to spoil it.

  “Look over there, Lina dear.”

  Lina looked in the direction that Mentor was pointing, but saw nothing. “I don’t—”

  “Patience.”

  Lina stared at an endless sea of puffy clouds.

  “There.”

  This time Lina saw it. A pinkish-orange flash of light, starting at a central point and shooting out in three different directions at once, before forking to become six, and then again to become twelve, setting the surrounding clouds aglow, and finally extinguished as quickly as it came.

  “It’s beautiful,” Lina said.

  “Noble gasses,” Mentor said. “Pockets of them trapped around there.” Mentor pointed just to the right. “Look, there’s another.”

  Lina turned in time to see another web of light, a deep red this time, just fading from view.

  “That’s what gives the lightning its unique color,” Mentor said. “The gasses.”

  “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  “I’ve only ever seen the color show out here between the colonies. Closer in it’s always plain white arcs.”

  “Look, there’s another!” Lina jumped up and pointed to an expanding arc of the purest blue she had ever seen, this one illuminating the clouds farther off and to the right.

  The pinkish-orange flashed again, but in a smaller spread. Not long after, the first of the rumbles began buffeting against the cloud skimmer’s hull. Lina sat down fast.

  “It’s alright,” Mentor said. “We’re far enough away that the storm’s not that strong.”

  “This is crazy,” Lina said, as the blue flashed again. “It’s like they’re talking to each other.”

  Lina’s mentor was scenting love and calm as she began digging in the storage compartment again. She grunted as she pulled something forth. But instead of more fruit, it was a wide wooden plank—a false bottom. Lina’s mentor set it aside and reached far down into the compartment.

  “I always meant to give this to you,” she said, bringing out a large book that looked impossibly old, and smelled fiercely of chemicals used to ward off pests—chemicals that Lina was pretty sure had been banned some time ago.

  “It’s my copy of the Book of Origin,” Mentor said, “I’ve been saving it for you. You’re right, I am getting on in years, and as much as I hate to admit it, my mind is slipping. I thought it best that you have it before I forget where I hid it.”

  Lena heaved a sigh, looking at the old, forbidden book. Another buffeting boom shook the boat as if an omen. Lina refused to touch the book, lest somehow Mentor would see it as her acknowledgment of this perfectly inappropriate gift on an otherwise wonderfully nostalgic journey. But it made sense of her day in a strange sort of way. Being this far from shore, Mentor had ensured that at least Lina couldn’t go running off at the sight of it.

  Lina sighed.

  “I don’t expect you’ll read it right away,” Mentor said. “But perhaps someday, when you begin to ask more questions about why things are the way they are.”

  Lina rolled her eyes. She looked at the picnic basket, picked up another fruit, and then set it down again. Lina cursed her luck for running into her mentor in the first place. She was going to be stuck out here all day while the old woman prattled on about ancient stories. Stories that weren’t even true as far as she was concerned—and especially not as far as the queen was concerned—the whole reason that book of tall tales had been banned in the first place.

  “Have you ever read the part that tells the stories of the ancient cities below the clouds?” Mentor said. “It really is fascinating. To think about how far we’ve come…”

  Lina turned to stare off along the horizon. After a rough start, it had turned into an enjoyable day, and now this—this talk of The Ancients, The Origin. “That’s a just a myth,” Lina said, “made up by mentors everywhere, to entertain the children in their charge.”

  “Perhaps.” Mentor paused. “Then why does it have you so agitated, my dear?”

  “Because I’m not a child anymore.” Lina folded her arms across her chest and frowned.

  “I’m sorry I’ve upset you.” Lina’s mentor said. She was scenting calm and caring now, in heavy amounts.

  Lina tried her best to ignore it.

  No more words were exchanged other than those necessary to get the cloud skimmer turned around to drift back toward the colony. And after the craft was pulled back into the storage dock, Lina grumbled a hasty goodbye and found the nearest refuse receptacle in which to stash the old book.

  Chapter 4: The Queen’s Gala

  And though the colony had called this place home for far longer than any one of their kind could remember, over the course of recent days, the lands had become barren and the fruit of the sacred tree grown bitter. So it was, when the Wise Queen gathered up her children to watch the great ships sailing against the night sky. With their silver sails unfurled, the sleeping young queens set out in search of a new home. A home once again overflowing with the gifts of milk and honey.

  —Selected passages from The Book of the Origin by Bella Aurelius Nobilis, Modern Language Translation

  * * * *

  Lina stood outside the door to Arabel’s apartment, bouncing on her toes while waiting for Arabel to answer. She had been day-dreaming all week at work, thinking of this very moment. Tonight was the Queen’s Fertility Gala, the one night of the year that the palace was open to the entire colony, and only the third year Lina was old enough to attend the Royal Wine Making.

  Arabel had promised Lina that she w
ould provide them with some unique, handmade costumes for the event, something that no one else would be wearing. Impatiently, Lina pushed the door open just a crack. “Arabel?”

  Arabel’s face suddenly appeared in the crack of the door and Lina’s body jerked as she jumped back. Arabel had painted her nose and cheeks with bio-luminescent ink again, but not the tribal patterns of before. This was something more organic.

  “Wait!” Arabel hissed, causing Lina to back away further. She then broke out into a huge smile, causing the designs on her face to dance. Lina caught a slight whiff of mating pheromone as well.

  “What are you up to in there?”

  “Count to three and then come in. I want to make a proper entrance.”

  Before Lina could respond, Arabel shut the door and Lina heard her muffled footfalls, running away.

  “Okay!” Arabel shouted from inside.

  Lina smirked and slowly pressed inward on the door. “Aaarabelll…?” she called in a sing-song voice, “Baby, did you get your tree flower back? You’re acting kind of odd.”

  Lina scanned the tiny apartment. “Aaarabelll. Where are—?”

  “Ta-dah!” Arabel burst forth from behind one of the myriad potted plants in her apartment. Lina saw a grinning face with two arms extended and hands fluttering with fingers spread wide. It was hard to miss. Every bit of skin on display was glowing with painted-on designs in bio-luminescent ink. It was the rest of Arabel that took a moment to find.

  Lina pulled her gaze away from the bright designs long enough to see that Arabel’s costume for the evening seemed to consist of nothing more than woven vines and some strategically placed leaves.

  “Looking good.” Lina grinned and reached out.

  “Don’t touch though,” Arabel said, backing away. “It kind of falls apart when you touch it.” Arabel frowned.

  Lina reached out to lay a finger on the back of Arabel’s neck, near her scent gland. It was far enough away that the gesture could be considered consoling, but close enough to be obvious that Lina thought she might look better without her costume. Lina inhaled deeply and Arabel vibrated momentarily in response before pulling back.