“You’re using that thing as a map?”
“Well, yes. I’m assuming it’s drawn to scale, and if so—”
“It’s fiction. Made up by some tree flower eating drones on a bender for all we know. Are you ready to put our lives in the hands of that—that book?”
“It got us here.”
“Mentor got us here. She said to follow the setting sun.”
“No offense to your mentor, but if I did that, we’d be dead.” Arabel opened the book and tapped the map just inside its cover. “Look at the different paths of the sun drawn here.”
Lina grumbled.
“Just look.” Arabel traced out a dotted line with her finger tip. “This is the path of the sun in the hot season, right straight to the island. We’re in the cool season now. It’s a shorter arc, and it bends this way. If I’d followed this one…” Arabel traced the longer arc.
“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
