Emergence

by Adrienne Gordon

  “—so we may be scientists, but we cannot govern without pity. I vote that we allow Melissa to be a free citizen, a protected citizen; a part of our community!”

  The crowd again jumped to their feel in support of Melissa, chanting her name and cheering. The broad-shouldered wilāya banged his gavel ten times before quiet was once again restored.

  “Against all our laws,” he said slowly, “we make an exception; Melissa Drusciana is given safe harbor amongst us, and equal status!”

  The crowd erupted in cheers, and Melissa couldn’t help but cry. She turned to Vincent, who nodded back at her with a thin smile.

  After the trial, she couldn’t help it; she was still fatigued. But this time her hunger won, and she asked for food to be delivered to her room. Heaping plates of steaming food were delivered by men and women beaming with smiles. All of them thanked her, and Melissa couldn’t help but cry, she felt so appreciated.

  Everything looked so good, she didn’t know where to start. Several plates of different kinds of meat beckoned to her, cradled with sprouts and boiled roots. But it was the sinful sugary smell of two towering cakes that called to her the most.

  I’ve gone through so much; I deserve it.

  She cut a big slice -- something her mother would never have let her done, and plunged in. She thought she had never tasted anything so utterly delicious in her life. And just as she put the second bite in her mouth, there was a knock at the door.

  More food?

  She opened the door, and saw the last person she expected to see.

  “Daria?”

  “What are you doing, eating?” she asked with a mischievous grin, pulling at her robe. “You need to come down with me – we’re having a fête!”

  “But I’m not dressed,” pouted Melissa. “And I haven’t eaten in days! Why don’t you join me?”

  “Okay.”

  Daria sat across from her and Melissa pushed aside her cake, loading a meager plate with meat and vegetables. Daria put a few sprouts and roots on her plate, and it made Melissa utterly depressed to see how happy she was with so little. Melissa tried to make her meager portion last, but she was too hungry.

  “Is that really all you’re gonna eat?”

  “Well, yeah,” answered Daria. “Sometimes I go a whole day without eating a thing, there’s so much work to do around here.”

  Melissa sighed, debating what to do. “Well, I need to eat! I still feel weak after opening that ribbon.”

  Daria reached over and squeezed her hand. “Go ahead -- I don’t mind.”

  Melissa was about to pull over a platter, but couldn’t. “Daria . . . I’m sorry . . . about Richard.”

  “Don’t be,” she snapped with a quick shake of her head and wipe of her eye. “Richard couldn’t commit to me. I tried and tried, but he’s exhausted me. Maybe you’ll have better luck with him. I told you; I’ve tried everything to make him like me, to make him show some affection towards me. Maybe . . .”

  “Maybe what?” asked Melissa.

  “Maybe he wanted something dangerous, someone dangerous. I mean, you’re forbidden fruit,” she said with a wide smile.

  “Never been called that before,” she muttered, taking another bite.

  For almost an hour they sat and talked as Melissa finally got to feel full. Each told the other about their childhoods, and they were surprised at how much they had in common. Daria had a father that was lost in an avalanche, and a brother who lived in another community, ostracized by those he grew up with and banished by the council.

  “So, now that you’re full, come on and get ready! We have a fête to go to.” She stood back, and examined Melissa from head to toe. “You do need some new clothes, but I don’t think I have anything that fits you.”

  In an instant Melissa was reminded of how much weight she gained, and she slowly cut another slice of cake. “No, that’s alright. I should just stay in.”

  Daria came in and sat down on the small cot. “You need to go – this is for you! Besides, there’ll be so many cute boys there. I know Vincent will be there, and probably Richard.”

  “You sure you’re alright with . . . us?”

  “Yeah,” said Daria with a quick wave of the hand, “don’t worry about it.”

  Melissa sighed. “But what about my clothes? I can’t go around wearing the same thing day after day.”

  “Aren’t you an ‘Archsussa’? Can’t you just whip something up?”

  Melissa grinned, as she had completely forgotten. “You’re absolutely right. Let me try something. It shouldn’t take too much energy.”

  Slowly, she focused her mind, and thought back to some of the parties she had seen when she was younger. Thousands of tendrils of sussa manifested from all along her limbs, enveloping her in a pinkish hue.

  “Lissa,” asked Daria quietly, “what would you do if you knew you had six months to live?”

  “What do you mean?” asked Melissa, a little worried. “Is everything alright with you?”

  “Yeah, yeah -- I’m fine. But I mean, if you knew that you would die in six months, would you fight to try to stop it, or would you just accept it, and let it be?”

  Melissa paused from fabricating clothes, and said; “I would fight it! Why wouldn’t I? Why wouldn’t anyone?”

  “I don’t know,” said Daria with a shrug. She put her hands in her lap, and gazed dreamily at the ceiling. “There’s so much about living, about all the trials and tribulations we go through. Sometimes I think being done with it all might be a good thing. I mean, it might be better to know exactly when it would happen, instead of not knowing.”

  “Yeah, but --”

  A loud thump was heard on the door, then a boy’s voice said; “When you comin’, Daria?” Daria jumped up, and Melissa hid behind her bedroom door.

  “In a minute, guys! Damn, just wait.”

  “It’s gonna start without us – we’ll meet you there!”

  “Fine,” spat Daria, “act like that.”

  “New boyfriend?” asked Melissa.

  “Maybe, but he’s too impatient – for everything. And he’s so thin, he can almost fit inside my pants.”

  “Mmmm . . . I like thin boys.”

  Daria wrinkled her brow, but remained silent.

  “I might be a little thick, but that doesn’t mean I want a heavy boy!” cried Melissa.

  They both giggled, and Melissa knew she had a friend she could depend on. Melissa though about asking her about the question she posed about dying, but didn’t want to ruin the mood of the evening. Instead she finished weaving a new dress, and Daria cooed with approval.

  “Wow – you look pretty! Come look in the mirror.”

  Melissa glanced quickly at herself in the mirror, spinning, then headed for the door. “Yeah, it looks good.”

  “Come on, Lissa – you barely looked at yourself! Look at the detail work along your leg.”

  “Yeah, I’m sure it turned out good.”

  “Why don’t you want to see what you made?” asked Daria, puzzled.

  Melissa fidgeted, wondering whether to answer honestly. “I . . . I don’t like to look in the mirror. I’ve gained so much weight!” she said emphatically, taking a deep breath. “I know I wouldn’t fit into any of my old clothes. I don’t even know why Richard likes me.”

  “Well, you might think you’re heavy, but I’m too tall. I’m even taller than Richard!” Daria came next to her, and in the mirror Melissa could see she towered over her by almost a foot. “And look at my skin,” she said, running her hands over her pock-marked face, full of blackheads. “No matter what I do, no matter what kinds of food I eat or don’t eat, they just won’t go away.”

  Melissa grinned. “Let me do this for you?”

  “You mean?”

  “Just wait.”

  Melissa turned Daria to face her, and put her hands under her chin. Carefully she extended thin, wispy tendrils of sussa up from her palms, as if she was growing leaves of grass. They tenderly cradled Dari
a’s face, making her giggle.

  “It tickles!”

  “I’m almost done.”

  After a few more minutes, Melissa dissipated the sussa, and turned Daria to the mirror.

  “I . . . I can’t believe it,” said Daria, admiring her face. She put up her hands to touch her cheeks, but was afraid to touch them. Melissa helped her, pressing her hands onto her cheeks.

  “Don’t worry – it won’t fade. You might get one or two later, but that’s it.”

  “You know, you might be a little heavier than I, but you sure have filled out in your chest.”

  Melissa dared to look again, and her words were true; she actually had some cleavage. She pushed up her bra, and pulled her dress a little lower. She glanced over at Daria, who seemed positively flat in comparison.

  “Now come on Lissa; the boys won’t know what hit ‘em!”

  The path down was narrow and treacherous – the corridors were poorly heated, and water leaked from rusted pipes, leaving a thick coat of ice that threatened to detour one’s journey to the infirmary. At first Melissa conjured several firespheres, but Daria shook her head.

  “This is part of the fun! Sometimes sussa should just take a back seat to the real thing.”

  So Melissa indulged her, and slipped and slid down three levels, laughing all the way. They even caught up with Daria’s friends, who had stopped to smoke some foul-smelling plant.

  “Want some?” asked a pale-skinned, chunky red-haired boy with glowing tattoos on his cheeks.

  “You know I don’t do that stuff,” scolded Daria.

  “Wasn’t asking you,” he sneered. “Maybe the ‘sussa wants some.”

  “My name is Melissa and . . . maybe later,” she said with a burst of giggles, and Daria pushed her on.

  “Mmm . . . lovely Lissa the ‘sussa,” said the red-haired boy. “I’ll see you at the fête!”

  “Don’t humor them,” pressed Daria. “They keep on after you, until you take some.”

  “Why?”

  “I dunno . . . Because it’s their way of trying to control things. They want everyone to get on their stuff, so everyone will give up.”

  “Why didn’t they go up to the Levitating Cities?”

  Daria laughed. “‘Cause they’re too lazy.”

  Finally they entered a large cavern made of rock, which appeared to be under the ship. Melissa couldn’t tell when they exited the metal beast, but it was colder and damper, with only a few lights strung along the cavern walls. A few dozen teens hung out, on the rocks or on small chairs they brought with them, gathered around a group of musicians playing what looked to be very old instruments. Daria motioned Melissa over to where her friends were sitting, and they joined them, listening quietly as the band finished an ornately beautiful song.

  The audience responded with muted applause.

  “How do you like it?” asked Daria, obviously excited. “It’s so good to hear ‘music’ once in a while.”

  Melissa was unsure how to respond. She wanted to say how pathetically lame it was, but didn’t want to hurt Daria’s feelings.

  “I don’t know . . . you mean, there’s no other music?”

  “Well, up in the ship, there are a few recordings that can be heard on some speakers in the control room. But other than those, we have to make our own music.”

  Melissa sat forward, feeling mischievous. “Let me try something . . .”

  Daria anxiously started in her chair. “What are you going to do, Lissa?”

  “Let’s liven things up a bit.”

  She extended her sussa into the ship’s computer, searching through its files until she found some more active music ones, using a search parameter that segregated the music in terms of the potential age of the listener. For a few more minutes, she thought on what she wanted to do, then she got up and said;

  “Attention everyone; those of you in the far corner come out and stand back! I’m gonna show you how we in the levitating cities party!”

  The people scurried out, and Melissa transformed the rock into a large cone. She fed the music from the ship down through the cone, and the cavern was filled with a thick, loud bass beat.

  “Oh wow!” squealed Daria. “I’ve heard this before, just never this loud!”

  The others started to nod their heads and smile, getting off their feet. The musicians reluctantly put their instruments away, and after a short while, everyone stood in the center, reservedly bouncing back and forth.

  “This is great!” shouted Daria’s friends to Melissa.

  Daria pulled Melissa out in the middle, and together they moved to the beat and the lyrics.

  “Down, down, down, down, we fallin’ now

  Down, down, down, down, we lyin now

  In the wide clouds, we feel the heat

  Down the great valley, we feel the heat

  Baby-child I got my hooks into you

  Flash my sexy girly-body, into you

  Nowhere to run nobody to save, you,

  All alone in my arms, my hooks into you.”

  “Look!” yelled Daria, pointing to the entrance. “They finally got here.”

  Richard stood at the entrance, scanning the group, with Vincent next to him. Richard looked the same, still dressed in the tan uniform most of the adults wore, but Vincent was dressed in black, with thick spiky hair. At first Melissa giggled, but soon she kind of liked how it all looked on him.

  “Over here!” she yelled, waving. “Richard! Vincent!”

  Richard, still trying to look disinterested, pressed through the throng towards them.

  “Hey,” he said.

  “Hey,” answered Melissa. “You look nice.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Well, you gonna dance, or just stand there looking sad?”

  “Fine.”

  He twisted and turned next to Melissa, and while she wished he was more involved, her mind lingered on the kiss they shared, and hoped they could repeat it later on. But as she looked around, she realized what was missing.

  “You ready for something?” she asked Richard, leaning in close.

  “What? More sussa?”

  “We call it the ‘sussafloor!’”

  Gradually, everyone rose into the air while they danced, supported by thousands of transparent tendrils of sussa. They all cheered. Those that danced harder, rose higher into the cavern. Much to Melissa’s chagrin, she and Richard were stuck near the bottom, but it allowed her to see what everyone was doing.

  Why won’t he dance close to me? All I want to do is hold him, but I’m not going to grab him. Why can’t he act like a man and hold me?

  They danced around and around, everyone on different levels. Melissa felt heated, and though she could use sussa to cool herself down, she reveled in the sensation. She danced closer and closer to Richard, but to her chagrin, he kept his distance. Up above, several couples became entwined, dancing seductively.

  “That looks nice,” she said, pointing at them. “You ever try that?”

  “No,” he answered quickly, “I’m usually working. So . . . I thought tomorrow, after we do some research, maybe I’d take you down to the training field for nuria players. They have a good workout, and they’re a great bunch of guys -- Vincent even knows a few of them.”

  “I don’t know . . . I probably should be training to apply the concept I’ve learned.”

  “Yeah, well, you should also think about getting some exercise. I mean, people might think of it as cheating, when you use your sussa to do your daily chores. And you can’t eat more than anyone else, no matter if you’re special. It’s probably about time you thought about . . . losing some of the weight you put on. I mean, what would happen if you lost your sussa? You’d be unprepared to take care of yourself.”

  Melissa sighed heavily. “Oh, just hold me Richard.”

  He gently pushed her away. “No, not now, not in front of all these people,” he said, glancing around.

  They danced a little more, with Melissa becoming d
epressed and sad. “Do you like my dress?” she asked weakly.

  “Yeah, it’s alright. I’ll bet Daria would look really good in it. Maybe it’s a little too revealing for you. What happened to that big sweater you used to wear? That seemed to cover you pretty well.”

  Melissa kept dancing, but her heart sunk like a rock in the ocean of her soul. And though a large part of her wanted to skulk off somewhere and cry, the power she felt using sussa commuted her misery into fury.

  “Is this what you’re all about?” she shouted, as the music stopped and slowly everyone sunk back to the floor. “You can accept me as a heretic, as an Archsussa, use my talents, but oh no, when I get close to you I’m too fat for you? You stinking liar!” she shouted, starting to cry. “You lied to everyone, but I can see past that, and I’ve only been truthful to you, and helped you, but you can’t see past this,” she said, gesturing to her stomach. “Well this is me, Richard; as much as my sussa is me, as much as my hair is me, this is me! And it’s too bad you can’t accept me for who I am, when I can accept you for who you are.”

  She ran out of the cavern, and back up along one of the passageways. Daria tried to follow her, but Melissa gestured her to leave her alone. On a rock she sat, crying.

  How could I be so stupid? I’m so fat, no one wants to be with me. Why couldn’t I be like I was before, thin, and small? Why do I have to be an Archsussa; why do I have to be fat?

  “Sorry about him.”

  Melissa starts, and saw Vincent leaning against the wall nearby. She pulled her dress closer, suddenly feeling vulnerable.

  “Whatever.”

  “No, really, I’m sorry,” he said softly, sitting down next to her. “I don’t know why all the girls like him, but they do, and that’s what they get when the find out what’s under that big brain of his.”

  “He’s just a liar.”

  “Yeah,” agreed Vincent with a slight smile. “You deserve better.”

  Melissa sighed, and wiped her eyes. “Maybe he’ll change.”

  “Open your eyes!” he shouted. “All Richard cares about is Richard. He is all about his image and his standing in the community -- even over his own family. He’s put me down so many times, just so he could look good.” Vincent put a hand on her knee. “Even if you were thin or something, he would find something else wrong with you. Look at Daria! He’s led her along for years now.”