by J. M. Page
Early the next morning, Lina woke up — in her bed, thankfully — to a sharp rapping on her door. She leapt out of bed, her heart already thrumming at the idea of Bain being on the other side. It was awfully early, though. The sky was only just turning the light grey of dawn and even the birds still sounded half-asleep in their songs.
Quickly, she got dressed and made to tidy up a bit, but there wasn’t much she could do on such short notice. She’d thought she’d have more time. The knock came again. “Impatient?” Lina muttered, grinning to herself. “Just a second!” she called a little louder.
She sent a quick, withering look to her workbench, which was strewn with all kinds of pieces and parts. She’d stayed up late working on the piece she was sure would make the whole ship engine fit together and make sense. Now she just needed to get it all put together and… try it out? That was a terrifying thought.
A third knock reverberated through the door and Lina’s teeth gnashed together, her hands balling in annoyance. Impatience was one thing, but this was bordering on rude now.
“I said just a second,” she said, swinging open the door. “No need to break the door dow—oh. Hello?” It wasn’t Bain on the other side.
The guard stood stick-straight and looked down his nose at her, making Lina want to retreat back into her apartment and close the door in his face.
“Queen Neara requests your presence at the palace,” he said, his voice monotone and booming in the quiet early morning.
Lina’s eyes went wide, and she fought to remember to breathe. “The queen? Wants to see me?” Sleep still clogged her brain and she had trouble piecing the words together into a meaningful thought. What could the queen possibly want with her? Did she do something wrong? Was this about leaving Surie’s party early?
Instantly, her hands were damp and she scrubbed them down the front of her pants before remembering that she was still in sleep clothes.
“Can I change into something more suitable?”
The guard gave her a stony look, but then added one curt nod. She shoved the door closed quickly and rushed around her apartment looking for an outfit suitable for meeting with the queen.
Of course she had no idea what an outfit like that would look like. She could assume it wasn’t like the dress she’d worn the night before and it wasn’t like what she was wearing now. Something in between maybe.
After digging through the pile of gifts she’d received for her hard work, Lina found a simple blue dress and dark leggings warm enough to ward off the pre-sunrise chill. When she opened the door again, the guard had his hand raised to knock.
“You’re really impatient, aren’t you?”
“We shouldn’t keep the queen waiting,” was all he said.
“Right,” Lina muttered, falling into step behind him as he marched up toward the palace without a look back to her.
Her apprehension ratcheted up higher and higher with each level they rose in the canopy until they reached the rope bridge and she was shaking all over.
“Do you… Do you have any idea what this is about?” she asked. The guard turned and raised an eyebrow.
“That’s not really my business,” he said.
“Right. Of course. I’d just hoped…” It didn’t matter what she’d hoped for. She’d know soon enough why the queen requested her presence.
Inside, the palace bustled with activity. Already the staff was hard at work cleaning and polishing and replacing floral arrangements. There were others, in pairs or small groups, huddled together and talking. Lina figured they must be dignitaries and advisors. She didn’t know much about how a palace operated, but those seemed like the types of people to be wandering its halls.
“This way,” the guard said, his deep voice shaking her out of her momentary distraction. He led her up a spiral staircase opposite the one she’d taken the night before. They both circled the perimeter of the great hollow tree, crissing and crossing like the strands of a double helix.
At the second landing, the guard left the stairs and led her down a hallway that ended in two doors, glittering with inlaid gems.
There were more guards posted outside and they nodded to her escort before he knocked. A muffled voice came from beyond and the door opened on silent hinges.
“Your Majesty?” the guard asked as they stepped into the room. This one was no less grand than the others, perhaps even more so. The ceiling was tall, but not towering like elsewhere in the palace, and a series of shimmering chandeliers made it feel closer and the hall warmer.
The walls were lined with openings, windows which allowed a fresh breeze and natural light. More gems hung in the windows, there to catch the sun as the day went on, if Lina had to guess.
And at the far end of the hall, standing behind a throne that looked like it had grown from the ground itself, there was the queen, looking up at a portrait. There were four people in the portrait, two adults and two small children. Lina instantly recognized the mischievous look in the little boy’s eyes. She was much younger in the painting, but it was no doubt that the woman was the queen, and those children must be Bain and Suriah. So that only left…
“That will be all, Eric,” she said, not looking back at them.
The guard gave a nod, though no one but Lina saw it, and turned on his heel, leaving the throne room. Lina stayed close to the door, her fingers twisting together in front of her as the silence pulled and stretched across the vast empty space.
After minutes had passed without the queen saying anything, Lina cleared her throat. “Y-your Highness?”
The queen turned, her eyebrows lifting like she was surprised to find Lina still standing there. “Come,” she said, waving Lina forward.
Lina obeyed, trying to find the right pace between walking too slow and outright sprinting down the long hall. She finally reached the queen and hoped she hadn’t made too much of a fool of herself with the awkward walk.
The queen sighed, but her posture stayed perfect, her eyes still up on the portrait that hung above the throne.
“I’ve heard many things about you, Lina,” she said, not giving anything away. Lina couldn’t even tell if those “things” were good or bad from the queen’s tone.
“Oh?” she asked. Saying anything more could get her into more trouble than she was already in. If she was here about leaving the party early but started talking about her progress with the ship… Well, it wouldn’t be good. Better to see where the queen was coming from first.
“I’ve heard that you’ve been helping out people. Restoring some of the technology that’s been lost to us.”
Lina swallowed, nodding. “Yes, Your Majesty. People started bringing me things and it seemed wrong to ignore them…”
The queen gave her a soft smile that cut off her rambling. “And your work has been much appreciated. The gardeners have been able to start a whole new level now that you’ve restored the fleet of harvest drones.”
“I’m happy to hear it,” Lina said, hearing the apprehension in her own voice. She sensed a ‘but’ coming.
“We’re very lucky that you stumbled into our village. It may not have come to your notice, but parts of Mabnoa’s ecosystem have been in decline for decades because of the broken tech.”
“I’m happy to help,” Lina said, her voice growing warier. Surely the queen didn’t drag her out of bed simply to heap on praise?
“I’ve also heard that you have a personal project you’re working on?”
There it was. Lina gulped, her lungs turning to lead in an instant. She didn’t say anything. She didn’t need to confirm it for the queen to know it was true and she didn’t think confirming it herself was going to do anything to help her case.
“Some sort of ship, is that right?”
Lina tried to answer, but no sound came with her words. She coughed and tried again. “Yes, Your Majesty. One to take me home.”
“I see.” Suddenly, the queen’s gentle melodic voice was hard and cold, and Lina unconsciously took a step
back from her. “Have you not found Mabnoa a satisfactory home?”
“No!” Lina said, jumping at the accusation. “I mean, yes! I mean… Your Highness, everyone here has been nothing but welcoming and my accommodations are beyond anything I could have hoped for, but… this isn’t my home.”
“Are you sure about that?” the queen asked, one brow arched high. “You seem to fit in rather well.”
Lina scuffed her toe and it squeaked on the highly-polished floor. “Well… yes, but… It’s my mother, you see. She’s got to be worried sick about me. She doesn’t know what’s happened or if I’m okay… And it was her experiment that brought me here. I’m sure she’s blaming herself.” Lina’s voice cracked and she choked back the note of hysteria that was creeping in.
The queen was silent for a long moment and Lina stepped forward again, her voice turning to a whisper. “Surely you understand, don’t you? You’re a mother, too.” Part of her wanted to plead with the queen to not stand in her way, but Lina knew that nothing she said could stop the queen if she’d made up her mind.
“Yes, you’re right,” she said gently, eyeing the portrait. Then she turned and walked toward one of the windows, the whole of Mabnoa spread out beneath her, the sun finally high enough to paint the village gold. Lina followed, sensing that it was expected of her.
“I am a mother, and I understand what it’s like to worry about your children. I can only imagine what your mother is going through.”
“Thank you,” Lina said, her heart swelling. She knew the queen would see her side.
“However, I’m not only a mother to Bain and Suriah. I’m the mother to all our people. Their safety and well-being is in my hands. That is the burden I must bear.”
“Y-your Majesty?” Lina asked, now not so sure she knew what was going on.
“I know my son thinks he’s doing the right thing helping you, trying to get off this planet, but there are things he doesn’t understand. Things he won’t understand until he’s in my place.”
“I don’t understand,” Lina said, the world closing in around her. Whatever the queen was trying to say, it didn’t seem good for Lina or her quest to get home.
The queen shook her head. “No, I suppose you don’t. I’m sure you’ve heard about the mysteries of our peoples’ past?”
The queen seemed to be waiting for it, so Lina nodded.
“Yes, of course. Well, the past is no mystery to me, Lina. I know what caused us to isolate ourselves from our brethren, and I know that it’s the only thing keeping us safe.”
“But that was hundreds of years ago,” Lina said. “Maybe things have changed.”
The queen looked down at her and gave her a pitying smile. A smile that said ‘it’s endearing how naive you are.’ Lina didn’t appreciate the look.
“Nothing has changed. Our people have an enemy. One that will stop at nothing until we are under its control.”
“What… What are you talking about?” It seemed unlikely that the queen would spill all of their secrets to an outsider, but it seemed just as unlikely that they’d have gotten this far to start with, so Lina figured it was worth a shot.
“No doubt you’ve noticed our particular… gifts,” she said carefully.
Lina frowned. “You mean with the plants?”
The queen nodded. “Yes, precisely. We have a unique knack for horticulture and those talents extend to every one of our people. We’re able to grow things where no one else can, to a size that no one else can achieve, with a quality that no one else could dream of. These gifts have served us well, and none of our people have ever wanted for food. But that isn’t true of our enemies. They’re a violent race that have killed their worlds with pollution and war and their people have been faced with generations of famine and starvation.”
“And instead of asking nicely for help, they tried to force it?”
The queen actually looked mildly impressed that Lina had put the pieces together. But fitting pieces together was what she was good at.
“They began capturing our scouting ships. They attacked us, stole from us, enslaved us… When we found this refuge, the conflicts were only just beginning. The Fibbuns didn’t know about this tiny refuge world. But we had more and more casualties pouring into our port, bound to lead them here eventually. We had a choice to make: continue helping our brothers and sisters and doom our planet to the same destruction that had taken place elsewhere, or close ourselves off and never risk bringing them here. The choice we made is obvious to you now.”
“But what about the delegations? Aren’t they just broadcasting your location?”
“Our allies have, with our support and assistance, set up a warning system for the whole solar system. Any ships that cross our borders will be dealt with by them. They keep our secret for us — and by now, I’m not even certain their leaders have any records of the original agreements mentioning the Fibbuns — and we maintain a healthy trade relationship. It’s beneficial for us all. The Fibbuns wouldn’t be content with only destroying our people.”
“But if they’ve been starving for generations, who’s to say they’re even still out there?”
Now, the queen’s expression turned sad. “Mabnoa wasn’t the only refuge, once. But all contact with our sibling worlds has gone dark over the centuries. It’s not a risk we can take. As far as we know, they’re still prowling open space, waiting to capture us.” She sighed, and Lina could see the weight of this knowledge pressing on her shoulders and accentuating the lines around her eyes. The queen was an attractive and formidable woman, but in this moment, she looked her age. She looked weary and sad.
“I believe your parents may have been among those captured, Lina. That that is why they sent you to a new home where they believed you would be safe. But Earth is not where you belong. You belong with people like you. Your people.”
Lina stepped back, shaking her head. Sure, she’d felt at home here with people who seemed like her, but to think they actually were her people... To think that she could have a real home like she’d always hoped for…
“But I’m not like you. I have no talent with plants. My talent is with machines.”
The queen’s lips curled upward in a knowing smile.
“Have you ever tried?”
“I… Well… I mean… No,” she stammered. That would be preposterous. But already the queen was waving her over and pointing out the window.
“Do you see that branch? The one with the tiny leaf buds that haven’t gotten enough light to pop free yet?” She pointed and Lina followed her finger to the branch. Then her eyes followed it back to the place where it joined with the tree palace.
“Yes,” she said.
“Help it,” said the queen.
Help it? What did that even mean? She could help people by fixing things, sure. But now she was supposed to help trees? If the problem was that it wasn’t getting enough light, how was she supposed to fix that? Maybe she could rig up a sun lamp, but somehow, she didn’t think that’s what the queen meant.
“How?”
“How do you think?”
Lina frowned, clenching her jaw tight. If she’d had any idea what the queen wanted from her, she’d be trying it, not asking questions about it. But it seemed like no instructions would be forthcoming, so Lina went to the window right above the place where the branch joined the tree, and thrust her hand out the window, wiggling her fingers at the branch.
“Um… grow?”
Nothing happened, but there was the distinct sound of a quick exhalation behind her. Was the queen holding in laughter? This was hardly fair.
This time, Lina leaned further from the window and rested her hand on the branch. “How about this time?” she asked, wondering if the leaves could hear her, buried deep in the wood. “Please grow?” she whispered, hopefully low enough that the queen didn’t hear.
Still, the branch did nothing.
“This is silly,” she said, pulling back from the window. “There’s no way I’m goi
ng to be able to help a tree with some plant magic because I don’t have any. I’m a mechanic, not a fairy.”
Now, the queen’s amusement dissolved into a stern expression. The kind she was sure Bain and Suriah were used to shrinking away from.
“You’re not really trying,” she said. “Don’t discredit me because of a lack of effort on your part.”
“Fine,” Lina snapped, realizing that she shouldn’t be so flippant with the monarch, but the queen wasn’t exactly being helpful.
Once again, she leaned out of the window and rested her hand on the branch. She forced herself to forget that the queen was standing behind her, probably smirking at her failed attempts. She tried to forget how silly she felt and how ridiculous the whole idea was. Her, one of these people. It sounded as preposterous as it did plausible.
And maybe that was part of why she didn’t want to believe she had this “gift.” If she did, that meant she really was one of them. That she really did belong here. But what did that mean for Earth? For Mom? Not to mention what it meant for her birth parents. The ones that were likely enslaved by violent aliens when she was a baby and were probably long dead by now.
She swallowed and flattened her palm on the bark, closing her eyes to ward off the swirling vortex of thoughts she didn’t want to deal with. She focused instead on the crisp chill in the air, the lingering dampness of dew, and the radiant warmth of the sun. She focused on that the longest, trying to soak up all the light and warmth that she could to shake off these dark and uncertain feelings inside of her. She pictured herself as a sponge, drinking in the sunlight until it filled her every pore and she was warmed on the inside, too.
“Well, would you look at that,” the queen said, sounding smugly satisfied.
Lina opened her eyes and the branch she’d been touching had grown. Where it was thin and spindly before, it was now nearly as thick as her arm and stretching out almost as far as the other, older branches. And all along the branch’s length, there were bright green leaves, budding out like crazy, full and robust.
Lina sucked in a breath, staring wide-eyed in disbelief.
“Did I really do that?”
