“Wow,” was the only thing to cross Arabel’s lips since they ascended. That ‘wow’ coincided with a flaming baton that reached halfway to the tunnel roof before speeding back down and being caught by a gaily-painted diploid juggler below. The juggler did a twirl, smiling at the crowd encircling her, before launching two more balls of fire from her hands. They were close enough to the juggler that Lina heard the whoosh of flame and felt a spreading warmth on her cheek as the batons passed by. Arabel squealed and clapped her hands together.
The farther they went, the thicker the crowds. Lina looked at all the glittering masquerade attire obscuring the faces around them and felt a bit out of place. Arabel had the same idea.
“Let’s get some masks,” Arabel said. “Over there.” She pointed to a vendor with masks featuring similarly organic designs as what she and Lina already wore on their skin. Arabel made a successful transaction using a bit of tree flower petal, to secure two beautiful, glittering, handmade masks, along with a knowing wink and a few coins in change.
“Where are you planning to keep that?” Lina asked, glancing at the coins in Arabel’s hand.
“I’m not,” Arabel said. “Smell that?”
“The stench of humanity?”
“No,” Arabel said, “The grilled vegetables. Come on, let’s find them.”
Arabel tugged at Lina’s hand, but Lina stood fast for a moment, adjusting her mask and complementing the shop-keeper’s work. Finally, she gave in to Arabel’s insistence, and traipsed along behind.
“Thanks for the mask,” Lina said.
Arabel nodded, but seemed more interested in following her nose, and the two women joined the crush of patrons surrounding an open-air brasserie. As they finally made it to the front, Arabel traded her coins for two bowls of rice and vegetables, and a skewer of vegetables for a young girl standing next to her.
“Where do you know her from?” Lina asked as they parted ways.
“Who?”
“The girl you bought the kebab for.”
“Oh. I don’t. She just looked like she had a rumbly tummy.”
Lina rested her head against Arabel’s shoulder as they walked on. “You’re sweet.”
* * * *
As they walked on from the commerce area, toward the royal palace, the air began to smell less like grilled vegetables, and more like wine and pheromones. The number of children had diminished to exactly none, and in fact, Lina and Arabel were both questioned by a palace guard because of their smaller size. To this, Arabel responded by explaining that they were actually full-sized diploids, but just really far away, so as to look smaller due to the effect of perspective. The guard was not amused, but let them pass anyway.
“I can’t believe you,” Lina said. “To a palace guard even.”
“They’re too uptight.” Arabel grinned, and guided Lina over to a dark corner. Once there, Arabel pulled a bit of tree flower from where, Lina did not know, and then began the sensual ritual of placing it alongside her scent gland and leaning her head forward to display the offering to Lina.
“You’re going to get us in trouble,” Lina hissed, but moved her mouth to take the flower petal anyway. “And besides, I thought somebody stole your tree.”
“I got it back,” Arabel whispered, and fixed her gaze on Lina, as she placed the next petal on the inside of Lina’s wrist. “Just go with it.”
Arabel’s tongue made contact just as the first hint of the new bit of tree flower Lina had consumed was kicking in. Lina shuddered.
The press of the crowd was heavy, but Lina quickly found that, in a tree flower induced fog, she really didn’t seem to care that much. The smoky, earthy smell of the brasserie, and the lively, acoustic rhythms of street musicians, began to give way to a cloud of fertility pheromone and a steady driving rhythm that Lina could feel in her feet. Up ahead was the queen’s palace.
Lina laced her fingers in with Arabel and began following the scent drifting down over the crowd, and the compulsion it manifested in her, moving forward closer to the queen’s presence. This was nothing like their earlier rave, with the twirling woman, the brightly-colored bracelets and glow balls, and the groups of scantily clad, glowing, diploids. This was somehow driven, more fanatical.
The throngs marched forward as one, drawn by the music and the scent, through the palace gate. And then, passing through the archway, Lina saw it—the Great Tree. She had seen it before, at exactly this same event, but it never failed to amaze her with its sheer size. Arabel was similarly enchanted, standing with her mouth agape as the crowd flowed forward, carrying them with it.
Lina looked up. Perched in the highest boughs were the queen and her closest court, outfitted in glittering robes of silk, interwoven with designs in gold and silver thread. None of the designs matched what Lina and Arabel wore painted on their skin. They seemed harder, more angular, not the flowing work of organic curves that Arabel had laid out. Lina hoped it would not make them conspicuous. She glanced at Arabel, but her mask covered all expression except for the most obvious gaped-mouth wonder.
The sturdy lower branches of the colony’s Great Tree were completely obscured by the writhing cluster of humanity that clung to them. Diploids, all masked, and with every manner of bio-luminescent designs marking their skin, were making their way to the Tree, crawling over and through the throngs of bodies already there. There was a low humming of vibrating bodies, layered over the top of the already driving beat of the music, that echoed throughout the palace chamber.
Lina spotted the queen’s royal winemakers making their rounds—unmistakable with their unique full-face masks with a proboscis at the mouth, and their baskets heavy with fruit. She nudged Arabel, who nodded as she continued plodding forward, following the crowd—the scent.
Any newcomers swarming the lower bough were quickly relieved of their clothing by the grabbing hands of those diploids already entrenched there. One more naked diploid
