by A. Sparrow
As it loomed ever closer I realized I was looking at a bee. It flew alongside us and offered me a glistening gold glob of nectar, which I promptly managed to smear all over my face and chest. It kept regurgitating more and more until I had all I could stomach had to shove the poor creature away.
It then proceeded to offer some to Tigger. I never even knew that dragonflies could or would take nectar. I mean, when was the last time you saw one suck on a flower? They don’t even have the right mouthparts. I guess it’s different when you have another bug regurgitating globs of the sweet stuff for you.
The nectar calmed me. If I didn’t know better, I would say it contained something narcotic or at least analgesic. I was feeling more comfortable and less anxious than I had in a long time. At ease in my new skin. At peace with the universe.
***
I was just telling myself that the appearance of the bee might be a good sign that we were on the right track when a strangely familiar range of hills appeared in the distance. As we flew closer I could confirm that these steep-walled hills were arranged in a ring surrounding a group of weedy and reed-congested lakes. We had reached the bog lands!
Suddenly self-conscious about my nakedness, I smoothed my sticky hair and fussed with the few bits of clothing I had left. But I’m sure these folks were used to stranger sights.
The main village had been rebuilt since the attack and some new communities had sprouted up both on shore and amongst the giant lily pads. Thanks to an influx of refugees, the pads and platforms crisscrossing the bog swarmed with many more people than I had seen on my previous visits.
We landed hard on a large and vacant pad smack in the middle of the main settlement. Two guys just stood there gawking at us from the edge of the pad. I had to keep my hands over my groin, which made for some awkwardness climbing down. One guy, sensing my embarrassment, came over and handed me a strip of cloth that had been draped over his shoulder like a towel. I wrapped it around my middle. It made for an awful short kilt, but it was better than nothing.
Ubaldo and Viktor ducked out of a nearby hut and came bounding over to greet me. I was glad to see some familiar faces. For a guy who hardly ever smiled, Ubaldo was wearing a pretty wide grin.
“How did you do this?” said Ubaldo. “Did you fall into the ocean? I’m sorry. I could not stay.”
“Don’t worry. It’s fine. Tigger caught me in mid-air.”
“He stayed for you?”
“I guess so.”
“And did it work? Are you free?”
“I suppose so. I got him to bring me up high. The poor bugger almost froze his tail off. But he brought me there. And so here I am. Free … at last.”
“That is awesome!” said Viktor. “No more fading away for you anymore.”
“Nope,” I said, though I was feeling so awesome about the deal.
“How’s Olivier?”
Ubaldo shrugged. “Fine. He will keep his limbs … this time.”
“And Karla?”
As soon as I said her name, I spotted her, watching me from the edge of a giant lily, acting circumspect and shy.
“Hi,” I said, bearing no grudges. I wasn’t looking for any drama here. I just wanted to tell her about her sister. “C’mere.”
She approached me cautiously. There was something weird going on in her eyes. I could never read people that well, but it looked like her confidence had been knocked down a peg or two and she even have been a little afraid with just a smattering of hope.
“Izzie’s in Drumnadrochit. She’s looking good.”
“You saw her?”
“Yeah. In Drumnadrochit. I already forgot the address. But she’s just up the road from the Loch. Staying with a lady named Mrs. Ambrose.”
“You saw Izzy? My sister? And she’s alive?”
“I told you they had found her. We went to see her. And then … I kinda went and died.”
Karla winced.
“James. I’m so sorry. I never meant for you to go on your own. I always imagined we would do it together.”
“Yeah, well. Too late for that. Drumnadrochit. That’s where you’ll find her. She promised to stay put till you get there.”
“But … I should stay here for you. You just got here. We have lots to talk about.”
“I have nothing to say. Go. See your sister.”
“But we need to talk.”
“We don’t need to do anything. Go!”
And it was almost as if I had the power to flip a switch and make her fade. Her skin was already getting blotchy. Maybe she couldn’t hold back her excitement about seeing Izzie alive, or maybe my will just wanted her out of my face as soon as possible. But she was gone without ever a hug or a goodbye kiss or even a goodbye. She was just gone, leaving nothing behind but a beaded necklace a scarf and a plain shift, all collapsing in a little heap before me.
I turned to Ubaldo. “So what’s the deal? Is there still fighting? I saw a bunch of Pennies loading up their boats.”
“They are leaving,” said Viktor. “Abandoning every position they had held.”
“What the fuck?”
“It is not just our doing,” said Ubaldo. “The Old Ones, all of them, have awoken. They still hold New Axum. The enemy forces there, they were defeated.”
“But I thought they were getting overrun?”
“They were,” said Viktor. “But they turned the tables. They brought every old soul on that mountain out of their long sleep. And there were many more than we ever knew buried in the overgrowth of the lower terrace. Vicious fighters. They never give up, those Old Ones.”
“So what happened?”
“They … prevailed.”
***
I went to see Olivier who was under the care of a top notch Frelsian flesh weaver. The guy had apparently had a lot of work done on himself as he had the abs and shoulders of an Olympic athlete/male supermodel. Olivier had not let him touch his knobby face or balding head, but he had no problems allowing the healer to reattach his nearly severed leg.
Olivier’s eyes brightened when he saw me. He was under orders not to walk but he lurched to his feet anyway to give me a hug.
“Urszula? Mikal?”
“They never came back,” I said, looking down.
“Oh, that’s a damned shame. But, did you hear the news? We did it! Chased those fuckers right off the farm.”
“They’ll be back,” said Ubaldo, sneaking in behind me.
“Yeah, maybe. But at least we’ve got time now to get ready for the next invasion. With Zhang gone, we’ve got a chance to do things up right.”
“What happened to Zhang?” I said.
“They tell me he disappeared when the Pennies overran New Axum. He was negotiating for a surrender that never happened. My guess is, they took him as a hostage.”
“The Pennies can keep him,” said Ubaldo.
“Yeah. That’s a pretty popular sentiment, from what I hear.”
“So who’s leading the Frelsians?”
“Frelsians? There are no Frelsians. That doesn’t mean anything anymore. We’re all just … people.”
“So are people gonna head back to New Axum?”
“What for?” said Olivier. “The war’s over. Folks can go wherever the hell they want. Make new settlements. It’s a whole new world.”
“You think Luther will come back up top?”
“Who cares?” said Olivier. “I’m gonna find myself a nice hilltop with a good view and a trout stream. Weave myself a nice little villa. With all these roots exposed it’s gonna be real easy to rebuild stuff. We’ve got to work fast, though. I hear the exposed parts are already repairing themselves, turning back into stone.”
“Where will you go?” Ubaldo asked me.
“Who me? I don’t know. Maybe go hang out in that little hollow in the foothills, if it’s still there.”
“I hope you can stick around a while. We’ve got some planning to do. Word is, Ubaldo and I have been tagged to work on creating a little defe
nse force. I’m hoping you can help out.”
“Sure. Why not? It’s not like I’m in any hurry to go anywhere.”
“We’ll start meeting as soon as this Nazi clears me for walking. I tell you he does some slick work, but he’s a bit too anal retentive for my taste.”
“Deal,” I said, my eyes drifting to the ring of hills, drawn to any speck in the sky that might pass for a young woman on a dragonfly.
***
I asked if there was a place I could stay and maybe take a nap. Ubaldo had a young Duster lead me to a vacant cabin with a thatched roof that looked suspiciously like one of Bern and Lille’s places. It had two tidy little beds along the wall, a small table set with tea cups and saucers for three.
“Who lived here?”
The Duster shrugged. “I don’t know. Some Hemisoul refugees.”
“Do you know their names?”
“No.”
“What happened to them?”
“Who knows? People move around a lot.”
He left me with a flask of nectar and some cakes made of yellow pollen. I nibbled a few chunks, which tasted kind like chalk and laid down on one of the beds, letting the thousands of thoughts and emotions and experiences of the past few weeks wash over me. I had a lot of sorting out to do, and what better way than to sleep?
My nerves were so jangled that it took some time for sleep to claim me. I did eventually enter a deep slumber marked by ordinary dreams intermingled with bouts of cruising consciously in the Singularity. The difference between I could tell the difference because the latter always was an intensely social experience. One is never alone in the Singularity.
As I lay there drifting between dream states, I became aware of a man and woman bickering over what to make for dinner. This was not part of a dream. These two of my dearest and very real Hemisoul friends in their own imperfect flesh.
“Not hot cakes again,” said Bern. “This is a special occasion. We have a guest. Why not make something out of roots?”
“I don’t have to remind to you that our supply of roots is dwindling, Bern. There just aren’t many sources around here. There is plenty back in the valleys where the quakes hit, but if you insist on here staying in the bogs, we’ll just have to get used to subsisting on the local produce … and so will our guests.”
“It’s just that … hot cakes made of that swamp grit, whatever it is, they taste like warmed up dish rags. Can’t we have something for a change that doesn’t make my mouth feel like it’s packed with mud?”
My eyelids lifted and I could see them both sitting at the little table right across from my bed.
Lille touched Bern’s arm. “He’s awake.”
They both turned to me, eyes warm and welcoming.
“Oh so sorry, James. Were we speaking too loudly?”
“No. It’s cool. I should probably get up.”
“Did you have a nice nap?”
“Yeah. It was kind of weird … but nice. Nice to wake up to you all. I thought this had to be your place.”
“Welcome to rustic cabin version nine point one. But don’t get used to it. Lille is lobbying for an upgrade already.”
“I just want to get out of this bog before the mosquitoes show up.”
“Mosquitoes? What the fuck?”
“Rumors, James, just rumors. How could a mosquito survive in a place with no host large enough to feed on? It is simply not possible.”
“I want to go back to the plains,” said Lille.
“What plains? There is nothing flat about them now. If you want to call them something, call them badlands.”
“I want to go back to the badlands. Or anywhere far away from this dreadful swamp.”
“It’s not that bad.”
“Oh no? Then why am I seasick every windy day?”
“It’s all in your mind. These pads are rooted and stable.”
“I’m going back, I decided.”
“Oh? Back where?”
“To my hollow. Last I saw it, it was pretty much intact.”
“We’re coming with you,” said Lille.
“You’re more than welcome,” I said. “It’d be nice having you two as neighbors.”
Lille bore a grave expression.
“James. Is it true? You are now a Freesoul?”
“Yup. That seems to be the case.”
“How does that make you feel?”
To answer them truthfully would have required many more words and much more soul searching than I was willing to invest at the moment.
“I’m okay with it, I guess. I mean, it is what it is.”
“We’ll be joining you soon, lad. Now that the hostilities have ended.”
“You’re both … still Hemisouls?”
“Yes, but arrangements are underway. We’ve decided to take the plunge. Lille’s not going to be able to stay in that coma forever. And my own health back in the prison isn’t what it used to be.”
“How did you guys get here?”
“It wasn’t easy,” said Bern. “Another hard, long slog. When they gave the final order to evacuate New Axum we were with one of the first groups out by ground. The Pennies were about to breach the upper terrace and Master Zhang was still negotiating surrender terms. It had looked like they were going to give no quarter so many thought it prudent to leave.”
“We were halfway to the bogs when we got word that the final assault had commenced. The talks had failed and the Pennies planned to take it all. But the Old Ones took issue with that. They emptied their crypts of Long Sleepers, staged a massive defense, drove the Pennies off the mountain, harried them deep into the valleys.”
I sat up in bed and adjusted my sarong-like wrap.
“Hah! And Olivier thought it was all our little root quake that sent them running.”
“Root quake?”
“Yeah. Didn’t you hear?”
“We heard a few of you went on a little excursion to Penult, but….”
Little excursion? Was that how they saw our expedition? I smiled but kept my mouth shut. Let the Old Ones have the bulk of the credit. It was probably well deserved.”
“Well anyhow, the land is full of abandoned Cherubim. They’ve ceased all fighting. They just seem to be wandering like cows, grazing on anything remotely edible. Some, I hear just stand around, withering away with no one to tell them when or how to eat.
“Too bad there isn’t a way to get their souls back. I wonder if they would be on our side considering all that was done to them?”
“I say let them stay brainless,” said Bern. We have enough to worry about here.”
“But they’re people, Bern. Human like us. I’m sure many of them are decent folks, they just haven’t had possession of their own free will.”
“All the same, I wish they would just go away.”
Lille shared a knowing glance with me. “Bern doesn’t like nuance or complexity. Unfortunately, that’s not how the universe works.”
“I just want to have a nice cabin in a place where we can stay put for a change. I’m tired of being on the run.”
“One more move, Bernard, and I promise you, you’ll have your final resting place. Next time, come hell or high water, we can stay.”
Bern sighed. “If only I could believe that. Now let’s haul out our root stocks. This boy deserves something with bacon. We’re not actually going to feed him cat-tail pollen, are we?”
“Tea, James? We’ve been using the real stuff. Actual herbs, harvested from the hills and moors around the bog. I have to say, that part I’ve actually been enjoying about this place, even if the food gives Bern the grumbles.”
She poured me a cup. One sip and it tasted like a summer evening in Ohio with honeysuckle on the wind, the grass freshly mown and mom slicing a watermelon on the deck. It was just like home in a cup.
***
And so we moved. I arranged transport for the two of them by robber fly and I managed to get Tigger to land next to me long enough to fix a saddle on his back. Im
agine that?
The pitted plains were becoming pitted again. Luther and his minions had clearly been hard at work, sealing rifts, corralling Reapers below ground and putting the first touches on the surface habitations that I’m sure would eventually become the next iteration of Luthersburg, at least as grandiose as every iteration that came before it.
My friends went to work immediately, just outside my hollow building yet another iteration of their favored cabin/cottage, this time including a root cellar as well as a small wing containing a guest bedroom. I helped them with the weaving, but Lille was very painstaking about the details and we had to let her do the final textures and such.
In these heights of the dry season, I needed no roof and slept many nights out in the open along the banks of my little pond in the hollow. The land here, in many places, had already healed itself. Yes, the plains were much more rumpled than they had been with the collapse of so many sinkholes, but it was taking on more and more of a natural look as time went on, and even the mountains were looking more like mountains and less like slag heaps with each passing day.
There wasn’t enough left of Frelsi or the mesas to restore, so a new settlement was established in a deep and verdant valley tucked among the least ravaged hills. Much to his surprise and chagrin, Ubaldo was elected unified leader of this community, his popularity no doubt influenced by our exploits in Penult. Reznak came to speak for the Dusters in the coalition while a quiet woman named Jill became the primary advocate for surface dwellers who had never gone through the Deeps. Nobody called themselves a Frelsian anymore. Hemisoul. Freesoul. None of that mattered. We were all just ‘Surfies’ now.
Olivier had retreated back underground to hang with his old friend Luther and serve as our emissary to the underworld, which once again began to provide a steady flow of recruits for the surface communities.
Urszula and Mikal never returned from Penult. Ubaldo thinks they were taken prisoner. Olivier doesn’t think they would be executed, just turned into curiosities in some Lord’s menagerie, used for entertainment and propaganda to sate and sway the masses languishing in that semi-pseudo-Heaven of theirs.
I’m pretty damned sure that Urszula would rather be sent off to the Deeps or worse than subject herself to that kind of indignity. I’m also pretty sure that if there was any possibility of breaking out and getting back to the mainland, she would figure out a way. I pitied the poor Hashmallim who had the task of keeping her confined.
