Dance Until the World Ends
Page 7
“We’d be lost. Sunk.”
Arabel nodded.
Lina didn’t ask how Arabel knew which path to take. She was afraid she might say that she didn’t, that she just guessed, or worse yet, had some divine inspiration. Lina needed to put her confidence in something, and right now that was Arabel’s resourcefulness, so she didn’t ask.
Arabel bit off another piece of lychee fruit and chewed. “When we leave, it should be at sunrise. That’ll give us the best chance in case we’re out there a little longer than I’m estimating. It’s almost midday now.”
Lina hoisted herself up to sitting. “So let’s go exploring.”
“Are you sure you’re up for it?”
“I think so.” Lina tugged at the ragged lengths of vine still hanging on around her shoulders. “I need some new clothes anyway. Did you see any tourist shops?”
Arabel chuckled. “Um…no.”
* * * *
“It’s not that much different than our colony,” Lina said, her voice echoing off the empty tunnel walls.
“Except it’s dead.”
“Hmm.” Lina held a finger up. “Feel the breeze?”
Arabel nodded.
“If we head into it, I’m betting we’ll end in a Cave of the Winds, just like we would back home.”
“So?”
“So, if the cave is laid out like ours, I’ll know my way around. We can find some supplies.”
“If there’s anything besides dead quickvine.”
“And you were so optimistic before. Do you need to consult your book first?”
“Shush.” Arabel said, and began walking into the breeze, the soft glow of the bio-luminescent designs still covering her skin lighting the way.
Lina was shocked by how much noise there was in a normal colony, noise she took for granted, put into the background, until it was gone, forgotten, a constant low hum of life. The lack of that hum here was weighing on her now, more than anything. The rush of air and the soft padding of their footstep were the only things to be heard.
“This is spooky,” Lina said. “Where do you suppose they all went?”
“Died, maybe?”
“All of them?” Lina paused, bent forward, hands on her knees, gasping great gulps of air. “Phew,” she said. “The air is thin.”
“Want to go back?”
“And spend another night freezing in the skimmer? No thanks.” Lina got up and trudged onward, though not as spryly as she would have liked.
By the time they reached the colony’s Cave of the Winds, Lina was cross-legged on the floor, hunched over, while she directed Arabel as to which of the various supply cabinets were worth checking. In the end they collected two sets of fairly decent coveralls, and three more in various states of moth-eaten decay to be shredded and used as bedding for the night.
Arabel also found a small pail that she insisted upon taking in case Lina got sick again. Lina swore she was feeling better, then looked at the pail and promptly vomited again. She didn’t argue when Arabel announced she would take the task of carrying all their finds back to the skimmer.
The way back was easier, since it was downhill. Arabel carried the coveralls and Lina had her bucket. Arabel would pause every so often to look at something of interest, but Lina suspected it was just an excuse to keep their pace leisurely and interspersed with breaks. There was nothing of interest to see. Whoever lived here had left a long time ago.
“Shouldn’t we check the commerce area? The palace?” Lina said.
“For what, a souvenir? We should get back to the skimmer.”
Lina shrugged. She was thankful that Arabel didn’t want to explore any further. She was exhausted.
That night, Lina was grateful for coverall and the extra bedding. Even with Arabel huddled around her, Lina still shivered, but not so much that she couldn’t detect the gentle sobs that Arabel tried to hide from her.
Lina reached around to find Arabel’s hand and squeezed. She tried to scent love, but little if anything made it into the air.
Chapter 6: Island of the Drones
Each young queen emerged in a foreign land, thin of air and sparse of soil, isolated from the rest, with only a sapling of the Great Tree and the echoes of the songs of her ancestors to guide her. The entire weight of the colony rested upon her shoulders. For some, this only served to strengthen their resolve and they pushed back with all their might to build a thriving home for their children and their children’s children. But for others, the responsibility was too much to bear and they were crushed under its weight.
—Selected passages from The Book of the Origin by Bella Aurelius Nobilis, Modern Language Translation
* * * *
Lina flared her nostrils as Arabel let loose a cloud of scent that glowed like gold all around her. Arabel slowed the pace of her bucking hips and leaned forward. Lina half expected a bite on the neck, such was the intensity of their coupling tonight. She got a hand on her forehead and a kiss on the nose instead.
“Mmm, Arabel,” Lina moaned, arching her back against the soft moss carpet of Arabel’s apartment, still warm and moist from their mating. She tried desperately to regain contact with Arabel, only to be thwarted as Arabel sat up, straddling Lina’s thighs.
“Come back, baby.” Lina said, and batted her eyes. “Do that thing again…the thing with your tongue.”
Arabel leaned forward with a wide grin stretched over her lips. “Where,” she said, reaching out with her fingertip. “Here?”
Lina shivered. Whenever she looked at Arabel, she was glowing—still surrounded by an aura of golden scent. Too much tree flower, no doubt. But in Lina’s mind it really only served to enhance her beauty, if anything.
Arabel touched Lina’s pouting lower lip while Lina puckered up and tried to catch her. Arabel dragged her finger over Lina’s chin and halfway down her throat. “Or here?” she said.
Lina writhed and moaned as Arabel traced the line of her neck. She craned her head to one side, hoping Arabel would take the hint. She did.
“Or maybe it’s right here?” Arabel moved the tip of her finger to the top of Lina’s scent gland and drew it slowly downward around the outside, close, but never touching Lina’s sensitive gland itself.
Lina squirmed on the soft moss carpet, pulling handfuls of it between her fingers and letting go again. The moss was warm and moist, but it made Lina shiver, being bare as she was on top, and now without Arabel’s body giving her warmth.
Arabel was leaning forward, bowing her head, moving toward the side of Lina’s neck. “Mmm, yes,” Lina hissed. “Come back.”
“You look dry,” Arabel said. “I should get you some water.”
“Arabel?” Lina thrashed her head from side to side, “Arabel, come back.”
Lina pushed at the moss carpeting, trying to get some purchase to help her sit up, but she kept slipping.
“Arabel!”
* * * *
“Go away. I’m serious.” Arabel’s words floated through the air from somewhere far away, out of a dream.
Lina opened her eyes to bright sunlight. “Arabel?”
“Arabel?” Lina blinked and found Arabel standing at the prow of the cloud skimmer, brandishing the skimmer’s push pole as a crude sort of pike, jabbing it into the air in front of her.
Lina heard a rustling and the sound of many small feet on stone, but couldn’t see anything from her current vantage point other than the skimmer’s roof and Arabel from the waist down.
“That’s right, get lost,” Arabel shouted. “All of you. And don’t come back.”
“Arabel?”
“Honey, you’re awake.” Arabel laid the push pole on the deck and ducked under the skimmer’s curved top to the place where Lina lay, sweat-soaked, in the pile of shredded coveralls they had used for bedding.
“We’re not in your apartment, are we?”
“No, we’re not.” Arabel placed her hand on Lina’s brow. “Oh, honey, you’re burning up. You need some water.”
“Only you,” Arabel said, shaking her head as she pulled out the bota bag. “Only you could think about mating at a time like this. Have you forgotten what we’ve been through?”
“I know, I’m sorry. It was just a silly dream,” Lina said. Arabel helped Lina tip end of the bag skyward and let a bit of water trickle over Lina’s lips.
“You were glowing in gold, though.”
Arabel grinned.
“Really,” Lina said. “It was very sexy. I’m thinking for the next rave—” Lina proceeded to cough and sputter for a time, causing Arabel’s grin to turn to a frown.
“I wish I knew what was wrong with you,” Arabel said. “Then maybe I could do something to make you feel better.”
“I suppose I could start with a lychee. I haven’t felt the need to vomit for a while.”
“About that…” Arabel frowned. “Those drones I was chasing away. They stole our fruit. Basket and all, little bastards.”
Lina offered a wan smile. “I’d say at least we still have our health, but I’m not so sure about me.” Lina stuck her arm in Arabel’s direction. “Help me up, please.”
“You’re not going after them.”
“No,” Lina groaned, “but I do need to pee.”
Arabel glanced to the side, her eyes fixed on the storage compartment.
“And no,” Lina said, holding her hand up, “I not peeing in the bucket.”
Arabel took Lina’s hand and pulled. “I must be getting weak from hunger,” she said. “I swear you feel heavier.”
Lina shrugged.
“And taller too.” Arabel’s gaze moved to Lina’s ankles, clearly visible below the hem of her coverall.
“Old clothes,” Lina said. “What? It’s not like we had them tailored.”
“They fit yesterday. Stand next to me.” Arabel moved around behind Lina, while Lina clung to the edge of the skimmer’s roof to maintain her balance. Arabel placed a hand on Lina’s head and then slid it backward toward her own head. Her hand dropped a few fingers’ distance in the process.
“We used to be the same height,” Arabel said.
“You sure I wasn’t always just a little taller? Maybe it’s the curve of the skimmer.”
“It’s a flat deck,” Arabel said. “Come on.” Arabel offered her hand to steady Lina, and they both exited the cloud skimmer to stand on smooth, flat rock.
“Gotta pee, first,” Lina protested.
“Fine.”
Lina wandered off toward some low shrubs.
“Need any help?” Arabel teased.
“I think I can manage.”
Lina walked slowly back, took a moment to catch her breath, and then stood back to back again with Arabel. “See?” Lina said. “Same height as I ever was.”
“Close your eyes.”
Lina closed her eyes.
She heard Arabel’s footfalls, slapping on flat stone, walking around stand in front of her. Arabel took Lina’s hand. “Now kiss me on the lips,” she said.
Lina puckered up, leaned forward, and placed a kiss right on the bridge of Arabel’s nose.
“Believe me now?”
“Yeah. Weird.” Lina slumped forward just a bit. “What does it mean?”
“I wish I knew.” Arabel wrapped her arms around Lina and held her tightly for a good long while. “Will you be okay by yourself in the skimmer while I go forage for food?”
“Do I have a choice?”
“Not really.” Arabel hopped up on deck and thrust her hand out for Lina. Lina took Arabel’s hand and lifted one leg over the side plank of the skimmer. “Oh, definitely getting heavier,” Arabel teased as she pulled Lina the rest of the way in.
“Am not.” Lina knelt on the deck and proceeded to crawl back into the pile of bedding. There was a short rustling from the shrubs where Lina had just been. She froze in place. More rustling.
“Stay down,” Arabel whispered, turning the palm of her hand toward the cloud skimmer’s deck to illustrate.
Lina nodded and watched as Arabel bent slowly to pick up the push pole from the deck and grip it tightly in both hands.
Arabel whirled around, brandishing her makeshift pike.
“Ho, dere,” Lina heard along with another, louder rustling of shrubs and the slap of feet on stone. “I no danger. See? I bring basket. See? No danger.”
Lina dragged herself upright to look over the prow of the skimmer. There she saw the owner of the voice, not much bigger than the haploids Arabel had chased off earlier, with both hands on their basket, lifting it to eye level.
“What do you want?” shouted Arabel.
“I bring basket. See?” The newcomer lowered the basket and took a step closer.
Arabel responded by slashing the push pole through the air in a short arc before centering it again on the newcomer. “After you ate all our fruit?” Mighty generous of you.”
“Not ate. See?” The newcomer slowly opened the basket with one hand, held it up for them to see before setting it on the rock, bowing, and taking a step back. “Not ate.”
Lina peered over the prow to settle her gaze on a basket, now full to the top with deliciously ripe lychee fruit. Her mouth began to water. Even Arabel took her eyes off the newcomer just long enough to glance at it. Nothing was said for a few tense moments.
Arabel lowered the tip of the push pole just a bit. “What do you want?”
“To give fruit. Your friend, she powerful sick. Need to eat.”
“Then why did you take it from us in the first place?”
“Not I.” The newcomer’s vehement head shaking gave way to a wide sweeping of the arms. “Them.”
“Oh, right, them.” Arabel said in a tone that Lina found to be heavy with sarcasm, but the newcomer appeared to simply take at face value.
“Them. Yes. Them.” The newcomer spoke rapidly, eyes bright, seeming to be happy that they finally understood.
“Then, who are you?”
“I am I.” The newcomer smiled and took a step forward, head high and chest puffed—until Arabel lifted the tip of the push pole again. The newcomer gazed warily at the tip of the pole and shrunk back.
“And who are they?”
“They?”
“Them. Who are Them?”
“Mostly harmless. Old drones. Some young. Not many. I show Them how to collect fruit from tree. Them not know basket is not tree. I tell them and now basket is back. See?”
“Are you their queen?”
“I?” The newcomer chuckled. “I not queen, not like your friend. I am like you.”
Arabel shook her head trying to make sense of everything. “Where did you come from?”
“Where did you come from?” The newcomer’s head was cocked to the side now, clearly confused.
“Not me.” Arabel took one hand off the push pole to tap her chest. She then gestured to the newcomer. “You.”
“I?”
“Yes.” Arabel grumbled.
“I does not know. One day I is not here. The next day I is. Sent by Great Tree, I suppose.”
“The Great Tree? Sent you?”
“Yes. Sent to take care of Them.” The newcomer gestured to the area all around. “Them.”
“Them,” Arabel said. “And your name is I?”
“Yes.” The newcomer, I, stood tall, smiling bright. “I.”
“This would be so much easier if your name weren’t a personal pronoun. Can’t we call you something else?”
I looked confused. “I am I.”
“Okay, so that’s a no,” Arabel mumbled.
Lina, who had been lying on the skimmer’s deck, taking this all in, rolled onto her elbow and then hoisted herself to a cross-legged sitting position. She took a moment to catch her breath and then leaned forward to extend her hand over the prow of the skimmer.
“I?�
� Lina said. “My name is Lina. Will you share some of your fruit with me?”
I smiled, head bobbing, and reached into the basket to pull forth a wonderfully ripe lychee. I held it up for Lina to take while Arabel stood fast with a white-knuckle grip on the push pole.
Lina peeled the fruit and split it in two. She brought one half to her lips and held the other half out for I. Lina took a small bite and chewed slowly, making sounds to indicate her enjoyment. I did the same with the other half.
“Thank you, I,” Lina said. She turned to Arabel and gestured for her to put down the push pole.
As Arabel complied, I pulled another lychee from the basket, and smiling, held it up to Arabel. Lina turned her gaze to Arabel, brow raised. Arabel looked at Lina and nodded. I was invited to come aboard with the basket. Without words, fruit was passed among the three, who were soon laughing, fingers and chins sticky with drippings, bellies full.
“Thank you, I,” said Arabel.
* * * *
Lina sat bolt upright, opened her eyes and blinked. I and Arabel were seated by the mizzen sail, still pouring over the Book of Origin and having their animated discussion about the other islands in the area. Lina had checked out about the time Arabel pulled out the book. A belly full of lychee fruit, and the insistence that I had seen their arrival in a vision, were enough to make Lina give into the fatigue weighing on her body and curl up on the makeshift bed.
Lina’s sleep was not nearly as refreshing as she had hoped. More than once she awakened to visions—visions of the lightning storms again. The same majestic shows of nature that she had seen while out cloud sailing with her mentor. But rather than viewing from above, Lina was trapped inside the clouds as the lightening lashed out all around her. Forked tongues of orange, blue, and white reaching out, pulling, grabbing, taking her somewhere. Downward, but exactly where, Lina never found out. With the last crash of thunder, she awoke.
“Lina has a vision! I see! I see!” I said, and stepped closer to where Lina lay, crouching down to her.
“Nothing that exciting.” Lina rubbed her eyes and stifled a yawn. “Just some lightening.”
“Lina need to be patient,” I said. “Just beginning now. It like that for I too. Before I was. Then I am.”