“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
