by Davina Lee
“We did,” said Arabel.
Lina sighed and closed her eyes.
* * *
Lina woke to something cool on her forehead. She blinked a few times against the light, before focusing on the face of a strange, tattooed woman. The woman was kneeling on the flat rock beside the skimmer’s side plank with her hand pressed to Lina’s brow. She was flanked by I and Arabel.
Lina tried to talk, but the woman held a finger to her lips. “Save your strength, dear.”
Strangely, Lina came to recognize the woman. She was one of the faces that the Great Tree had used to talk to her in her fever dream. The faces from Lina’s memories. Except this one. Lina had never seen this face until now.
The tattooed woman fussed and clucked over Lina for a long while, poking and prodding, scenting calm the entire time. She then produced a small white cup and placed it on the deck just ahead of where Lina lay. She pulled out a pouch overflowing with some kind of herb that immediately overwhelmed the pheromones in the air with its pungent odor. She gestured to Arabel for the bota bag.
“Tea,” the woman said, stuffing the cup with herbs and filling it with water. She placed it atop the heat exchanger that was still warm from their peat-fueled nighttime journey. “Drink when hot.”
Now that she wasn’t being poked at, Lina felt her eyelids growing heavy and began to drift. Still, she caught snatches of conversation in the air around her.
“Are you her mate?” the woman said.
“I?” Lina heard. “I am I.”
Lina smiled for a moment, imagining the confusion on the medicine woman’s face, and then grimaced as her stomach seemed to be tying itself in knots.
Lina reached for the bucket just in time.
“What has she been eating?”
“Lychee,” said I.
“Drinking?”
“Water.” Arabel’s voice this time.
“And these markings?”
“Bio-luminescent ink.” Arabel again. “From the gala. We have matching designs. See?”
“Mmm,” said the medicine woman.
Lina felt the woman’s hands on her again, this time helping her get into a sitting position, and pressing the warm cup of tea into her palms. As Lina drank, the medicine woman began probing Lina’s back, touching the skin of Lina’s neck, rubbing.
“Then, why do they not come off?”
“She talks to the Great Tree,” said I.
“Mmm.”
Lina struggled to keep her eyes open. “What’s in this tea?”
The medicine woman ignored Lina’s comment and turned to Arabel. “When did she last drink the royal wine?”
“Royal wine?” Arabel said. “Not since the gala.”
“That explains a great many things. You were wise to bring her here.”
“I say, bring medicines. Help Lina,” said I, clearly proud of the contribution.
Lina felt a spinning of her surroundings, and a strong urge to lie down—then the medicine woman’s strong hands helping her to do so.
“What’s wrong with her?” Arabel asked.
“Wrong?” the medicine woman laughed. “Nothing wrong, my dear. Oh, nothing wrong at all. Your friend is a young queen. She has started down the path of transformation. And now we must help her to see its end.”
“Bucket! Bucket!” Lina cried. She promptly turned her head and vomited again.
A scent began to fill the air that Lina was unfamiliar with. It immediately grabbed her attention with its urgency, but was fused with so much love and joy that there was no panic transmitted, only an invitation to come as quickly as possible to see something wonderful and new.
It wasn’t until just over half a dozen diploids crowded around the little cloud skimmer that Lina understood that she was the subject of the scent—she was something new to see and wonder over. Lina couldn’t help but smile and scent love, as those surrounding her from above began scenting the same.
Somewhere amid the joyful scene, Lina felt a dozen hands reaching down, holding her gently, tugging her out and lifting her up. Overhead she watched the scenery in a daze, changing from the dull and familiar underside of the skimmer’s roof, to the clear, bright sky. Lina closed her eyes against the sun’s rays, sensing its presence only through pink eyelids and the warming of her skin.
It wasn’t until the pink of her eyelids was dappled with shadow that Lina opened her eyes again to see the leaves of the forest canopy closing in. Light came down in shafts now, here and there along their journey. The diploids carrying her began humming in unison, a sound that mixed with the scenting of love to create a calm in Lina that she had never experienced before. Lina closed her eyes again.
* * * *
Lina opened her eyes to see the wide-eyed grin of her friend I, staring down at her. How long I had been there, Lina had no idea.
“Lina awake! Arabel want to know. I go get Arabel to see.”
Lina blinked, and I was gone. In I’s place was a young haploid with tattooed designs very much like those of the medicine woman. An apprentice, Lina soon realized, but how she knew that fact was still a mystery to her. Yet she knew it to be fact, and not mere speculation.
“How do you feel Your Highness?”
“Please, call me Lina.” Lina’s voice was deep and hoarse.
The medicine woman’s apprentice nodded once, and produced a cup of water for Lina to drink.
“I feel.” Lina paused to think. She wiggled her toes, toes that seemed such a long way away. “I feel taller.”
“You are much taller than when you arrived.”
Lina looked about, taking in her surroundings a little at a time—the roof of the tent covering her, noticing at once the tightness of the weave in the cloth, knowing the tensile strength of the wooden poles that held it up, the length of time the tent would last out here in the sun before the canvas would need replacing, how much longer that would last if the tent were moved into the shade. Lina’s head felt very full in a way she had a hard time putting into words.
The tent flap opened, letting in a shaft of sunlight and the tattooed diploid medicine woman that first came to see Lina—the chief medicine woman, Lina now realized. Together, with her apprentice, they helped Lina to a sitting position. Lina’s hands immediately went to steady the shifting weight of her breasts.
“Not just taller.” The medical apprentice grinned. “Bigger, too.”
All at once, Lina understood. The knowledge of the transformation that occurred within her body, catalyzed by the ingestion of royal wine, came rushing to the forefront of her mind. She was taller, bigger even than most diploids. Her cells had transformed. She had royal markings on her skin. She knew all of this.
Lina wanted to stand up, to take it all in, but as she began to move, the medicine women had hands on her immediately, helping to steady her, but at the same time holding her back. Lina detected a scent of caution drifting her way and sat back down.
“Your new body will take some time to get used to, Lina,” the older medicine woman said. “There is no hurry. You are our guest for as long as you wish.”
Lina nodded.
“Perhaps you should start with some tea. Your friends have brought some, and they are anxious to see you.”
Lina heard a rustling at the tent flap. She knew it was I and Arabel, but she was not at all prepared for what she saw when they came in. I was holding a white cup with a wisp of steam climbing from its center. I was grinning. That was all as she had expected. It was Arabel who was different. Arabel was glowing. A golden aura surrounded her as the sun’s rays intruded on the tent through the open flap and struck her skin.
Arabel came bounding over to clutch Lina firmly in her arms. Thankfully, I was more cautious carrying the hot tea.
Arabel laid her head on Lina’s chest and snuggled in. “Nice,” she said. “These’ll be fun.”
Lina couldn’t help but chuckle and throw her arms around Arabel’s petite little body. As soon as Lina had Arabel squeezed to her chest
and laid eyes on Arabel’s back, she understood the source of the golden aura.
“Nice back tats, baby,” Lina said.
“You like it? I heard you’re a queen now, so I had to do something to keep pace.” Arabel smirked.
Arabel stood up and turned so Lina could see. “It’s all my favorite passages from the Book of Origin. Illustrated in actual gold!” She was bouncing on her toes. “I’m carrying the history of our people with me.”
Lina scanned the myriad of complex designs that covered Arabel’s skin. Arabel was not exaggerating. In Lina’s mind she was able to match up the images and symbols to various significant events in the history of humankind—all starting from the Great Tree at the small of Arabel’s back and working ever outward and upward.
“It’s beautiful,” Lina said. “It must have taken some time.”
“You were out for quite a stretch.”
“I worry Lina sleep too long, maybe not wake up,” said I. “Medicine woman say it okay.”
Lina watched as, with a dip of the head, I smiled shyly not at the medicine woman chief, but at her younger, haploid apprentice. The smile was returned, and Lina couldn’t help but get a warm feeling inside. She began to see flashes of I and the young haploid together—not memories, but possibilities—doing great things.
Lina pressed her hands to temples and rubbed. “Why is it that I see things?” she asked the chief medicine woman. “Things that I’ve never noticed before. Visions of things that could be.”
“I can explain some of it, but not all.” The chief medicine woman held out her hand. “My dear, if you’re feeling up to it, I think it is time that we pay a visit to the queen.”
* * * *
It was slow going, but Lina insisted upon walking to the queen’s home rather than being borne on a stretcher. There were no crowded tunnels to navigate, only wide open, green spaces, full of tall grass and flowers, ringed by borders of majestic trees. The ground was cool and damp and felt wonderfully inviting on Lina’s bare feet. Everyone they met scented familial love as Lina passed. This took her by surprise at first, but soon she was scenting in return.
“You’ll get used to it,” Arabel said. “It’s not like back home.”
“No,” Lina smiled and took a deep breath of all the love in the air. “Not at all.”
Lina picked up a few followers along the way—diploids who would come to offer a greeting in the form of a brief touch or a kind word, and then depart with a scenting. But by far the most interesting troupe was the constantly revolving cluster of children who would run up to Arabel, taking a moment to walk hand in hand, and then scampering off into the meadow as another youngster came bounding over.
“You’re very popular here,” Lina remarked.
“You were out for a long time. I had a chance to make many new friends.”
Lina looked over at I, who was walking in step with the medicine woman’s young apprentice. They seemed to be deep in serious conversation. Lina had a flash of them standing on the pier of I’s home island.
“Pay attention as we come over this next rise,” Arabel said.
“Why—?” Lina started, but she stopped talking and let her jaw hang open as soon as the first leaves and branches were visible. By the time the group had crested the hill, Lina managed to get her mouth shut, but she was no less in awe. Standing in the middle of a grassy field, all on its own, was the colony’s Great Tree. Right out in the open, where anyone and everyone could see it, touch it, pick blooms from it. And it was massive, with branches stretching out on all sides, able to cover dozens of people strolling underneath it.
“And that is where the queen lives,” said Arabel, pointing to another small rise on the opposite side.
As the group neared the queen’s home—not a palace, but a modest home, partially dug into the hillside—Lina noticed an uptick in activity. The people here, while still friendly with a nod or wave, were less interested in Lina than they were in making preparations for something nearby.
A short distance off to the right stood a tall, concave cliff face. On the ground in front of it, diploids in coveralls were arranging clay vases in concentric, semi-circular arcs, radiating outward. Lina studied the vases, their size and their arrangement, waiting for the sudden flash of knowledge that seemed to come with whatever she looked at since her transformation. Nothing came but the sound of humming.
Lina lost the thought when Arabel said, “Almost there.” And then, almost absentmindedly, “Oh and that’s the colony’s amphitheater.”
Lina took one final look and turned her attention back to the queen’s home dug into the craggy hillside. Standing by the front door was a massive diploid woman. Even from this distance, Lina judged her to be easily one and a half times her own height. She was wearing an interlocking chain of small, golden medallions around her waist, and to that was attached a long, partially sheer skirt of flowing purple that Lina saw was made entirely of flowers tied together. Other than the heavy necklace constructed of golden triangles linked side by side, the queen wore nothing else.
The party came to a halt. Lina stepped forward and bowed deeply. She had seen herself doing this just a moment before in her mind’s eye, but didn’t really connect it until she had already started the motions.
“Your Majesty.”
“Lina,” the queen said, holding her arms out wide, inviting Lina into her embrace. “I was told you were awake, that your transformation was complete. I’m also told you have questions, and I apologize for not coming to see you, but…”
The queen released Lina and gestured to the bustling workers in their coveralls.
“What is it, Your Majesty? I’m not familiar—”
“Why, it’s a party, dear. The whole colony is preparing a celebration. For you.”
“Thank you, your majesty, but—”
The queen held out a finger, stopping Lina mid-sentence. “It’s not every day we have visiting dignitaries, and it’s been a bit since the last big party…And well, it’s just time, don’t you think?”
Lina thought about this. She thought back to the rave that she and Arabel had attended what seemed like forever ago. She thought about the casual love and warmth of that party, and how different it was than the Queen’s Gala that followed.
“Yes, Your Majesty.” Lina couldn’t think of anything else to say.
“Please, call me by my given name. I am An Ming, and I am at your service, Queen Lina.”
An Ming bowed deeply.
Chapter 9: Rave On
But there will always be the voice in the crowd who stands up to label the outsider as a threat, a scourge to be guarded against. If these voices are legion, the queens of these colonies will order walls to be built, and any sailors of clouds who arrive shall be turned away. And as the colony turns inward upon itself to wither in ignorance and fear, realize your folly, Wise Queen, and repent. Return again to walk the path of righteousness under the guidance of the Great Tree.
—Selected passages from The Book of the Origin by Bella Aurelius Nobilis, Modern Language Translation
* * * *
“How did she come to you?” Queen An Ming asked, as she and Lina paused their stroll to stand, still hand in hand, beside the thick trunk of the colony’s Great Tree. Lina was wearing a long white robe, a gift from An Ming, that was tied loosely about her waist.
“In my vision?” said Lina.
An Ming nodded.
“An old woman. A young woman. People I have known in my life.”
“Did she have…scent glands?”
“The old woman? No,” said Lina, “Neither did the young woman. Disturbing wasn’t it?”
“Yes. I’ve thought about this many times since my transformation. I think the woman was the Wise Queen of the East from the book.”
Lina nodded. “Did she give you soup?”
“Soup? No. It was water from a deep well for me.” An Ming turned to study the trunk of the Great Tree, running her finger along the length of the bark,
letting its dips and valleys guide her path. “I think it is the same. Collective knowledge. Passed down to us from our sisters throughout the ages.”
“I see things.” Lina laid her hand upon An Ming’s—tracing the same path, letting An Ming be her guide. “I see things and I know them.”
“Like this tree?”
“Yes. I feel the sap flowing inside, its lifeblood, coursing through it, carrying nutrients from the leaves to the roots and back. I understand how it connects the land to the sun and the air, and how all of us are connected to the land and air, and therefore to the Great Tree.”
“Your Arabel understands it too.” An Ming turned to face Lina. “For someone who has not made the transformation to queen, she is wise beyond her years.”
“Yes,” Lina said. “I see Arabel in visions sometimes, and I see her doing great things. Sometimes she is beside me, and sometimes she is surrounded by others.”
“You are seeing future possibilities, forks on the path. These were given to you along with your…soup.” An Ming grinned.
“Sometimes I see too many.”
“It is then that you must rely on your wisdom to guide you.” An Ming touched her finger to the center of Lina’s forehead. “What’s in here?” She moved her finger to the center of Lina’s chest. “And what’s in here.”
“But what if I’m wrong?”
“You’ll be fine. You have already learned the most important lesson of all.” An Ming raised her finger and tapped Lina’s forehead. “That you are not infallible.
“Now come, dear Lina. While we have been strolling, many hands have been busy preparing a celebration for you. And it would be rude not to show up, don’t you think?”
Lina felt a smile crossing her face, and without even thinking about it, she scented joy.
* * * *
Back near the queen’s residence, workers were making final preparations to the outdoor amphitheater’s stage. On the lawn nearby, there were large open-top grills being set up here and there, with charcoal laid on and lit ablaze. Great piles of fruits and vegetables were being sliced and skewered on tables nearby. And all around there was a low humming, the bustle of humanity, received not so much in Lina’s ears, as in her core. Coupled with the cool moisture of the path she walked—a path shaded by the branches of the Great Tree—and the scents beginning to fill the air, Lina couldn’t help but smile.