“Voyage to Venus: knockin’ on heaven’s door”
The Acherons, upon learning of their next destination:
“Venus? Are you cracked? That place is a living Hell! It’s even worse than the Necropolis if you can believe it.”
“The surface is hotter than Mercury, the atmosphere is clogged with fatal gas— not to mention we’d be crushed instantly once we flew in— there’s no life, no water, and no way we’ll set near it, let alone land!”
“Whatever business you think you have on there will just have to wait until people have advanced enough to colonize it. You couldn’t pay us enough to go there.”
“Now that I think about it, nobody’s ever landed on Venus, have they? I mean, even Mercury’s been explored by people. You’d think that with the proper equipment, we could technically go there…”
“Regardless, I’m not going there. What’s so important about this wasteland, anyway?”
“Your arguments are very sound,” Amy replied patiently. “But whether or not you want to go, we are going.”
“It’s suicide,” Kayleigh hissed, breaking away from her demure personality. “We’d have a better chance of flying back through that asteroid field in Lennethium drive.”
“But we are going.”
“Haven’t you been listening to us?! We don’t have the technology with us to survive on that world! If you really need to go, ask Kyrie to make you a suit— and leave the rest of us out of it!”
“I won’t need a suit. I’m to go naked. And we are going there, even if I have to go on my own.”
“Are you even listening to yourself? There’s a fine line between being brave and being stupid, and you’ve crossed over it, sister! If you land there without any clothes on, you’ll burn to a cinder if you don’t get squashed or die of monoxide poisoning first! Damn right you’re going on your own!”
“No, you’re not going at all! None of us are!” The sisters took the controls and jerked them until the Dauntless veered away from the Morning Star back to Earth’s moon. Amy grabbed their wrists firmly, and stared at them with fiery determination. She apparently knew what she was getting into, but even so…
“Please turn back. I have to go there. I’m not asking you to come with me; I just need you to land. I’ll give you the proper coordinates and everything: you just need to touch down. And please, have some faith in me. That’s all I’m asking.”
“You’re going to get all of us killed for nothing, you know,” they grumbled.
“I’m glad you care about the crew so much,” she grinned, “but we’ll be all right. I’ll be all right. It’s not the first time I’ve been there.”
“So you keep saying, but there’s no proof.” Amy put the knuckle of her index finger in her mouth and bit down on it, like she had a secret and didn’t want to reveal it. She had proof right there with her, but she knew that nobody would believe it. Eventually, however, the Acheron sisters finally gave into her nagging demands, if only because they believed in her. After all, Miracle was one of the few people who treated them like individuals, not a two-headed monster.
“Oh, all right, let’s see those coordinates. Really, now: this is the stupidest thing we’ve ever done. You sure you don’t at least want a spacesuit? That can protect you for a few hours at least.”
“No thank you. I appreciate this, you know.” She gave them an endearing smile and limped away, presumably to undress and go along with her insane plans. Teleah watched her go with a forlorn sigh, while Kayleigh numbly guided the Dauntless back to Venus. In a matter of moments, they would pierce her thick atmosphere and be on the deadly surface, saying goodbye to their friend, leader, and benefactor as she walked right into the Inferno. It was by far the worst thing they had ever done.
“Wait!” they cried as they thrust everything into automatic. “We’re coming with you!”
Kyrie Lastgear made a face when she heard the news, and surprised a few people when she stated that Venus was not “her kind of place”. Everyone just assumed she liked all of that fire-and-brimstone; Kyrie laughed and corrected their error. Venus had no life and no raw materials for construction, so why should she be interested in it? It made as much sense as saying she liked the desert simply because it was hot. When faced with the problem of making a spacesuit to combat the deadly Venusian elements, Kyrie showed several prototypes, two of which proved very effective against toxic fumes, heavy pressure, and intense heat. When asked when she had made them, Kyrie simply said, “Awhile back. It’s just that nobody noticed. Can’t I have secret projects now and again?
“So Amy’s really determined to go there, is she? Well, it’s official! There are people in the crew crazier than I am! She’d be better off swan-diving into an active volcano! And you say she’s going naked? Ha! She certainly has strange tastes! It’s always the one you least suspect, right?”
“And I was so close to admiring her for her guts,” Lil muttered. “Just when you think you can like someone, they do something totally idiotic like this!”
“Come on, everyone,” Rachel said, hovering above them lazily. “She must have a reason for doing this. Look, I know better than most that my master’s not all there, but she’s not stupid.”
“That’s it!” Kyrie exclaimed, banging her head against something as she jumped. She yanked her horns out and said, “She’s going to use you to shield herself down there! Of course! Why didn’t I think of that before? But why go there naked? Damn, that’s the stumper.”
“I’m not going,” Rachel stated. “Master ordered me to stay behind. Besides, I think I’m forbidden to go.”
“Scratch that idea,” Lil sighed. “Well, I’m certainly not following her to find out— but I am curious. Maybe until we get to the docking ramp. Yeah.”
“I suppose it’s as good a time as any to test these suits,” Kyrie gestured. Meanwhile, in another part of the ship, Rebecca and Riene were reuniting when they heard the news. They had barely been given enough time to hug— admittedly, a new and refreshing action for them— when Mink came in with the announcement. The fact that the stone-faced Yun looked visibly concerned was enough to stir them away from their happy meeting.
“Is she really serious? I mean, Amy’s really going along with it?”
“She’s heading for the docking ramp as we speak— probably undressing, too.”
“This doesn’t make any sense,” Riene hissed as she clutched her head. “Nobody’s ever set foot on Venus for a reason. And to go naked… Just what is she thinking?!”
“Is anybody else going with her?” Rebecca asked. Mink nodded.
“The Acheron sisters decided to come with her, and I hear Kyrie, Valti, and Lillianne are going as well. Rachel with stay behind, but I think I’ll go, too. Something tells me that I should.”
“Do you have a death wish?!” Riene exclaimed.
“No, she’s right,” Rebecca murmured as she sat up. Her wings fluttered with alien strength as she walked down the hallway, following Mink with a stunned Riene in tow. “I can’t explain it, but something tells me we need to go there— we need to follow her. I know it’s going to be risky, but it’s like I can’t resist. I don’t want to. It’s something deep inside, like my soul is talking to me, or I’m being called by a higher power.”
“Risky?!” Riene screamed. “Becky, you’ll be killed! You’ll all be killed! This is insanity!!” She grabbed Rebecca’s arm, and Hill looked back at her, bolder and more beautiful than she had ever been. It stunned Riene, and she let her go.
“I’m sorry, Riene, but I want to go with them. I…can’t explain why I feel this way, but…it’s like going out to swim when the waves are so rough that you’re afraid of stepping into the water. And yet those are the best times for swimming. I’m going. I…I’ll talk to you later.” The White Angel of the Dauntless turned a corner and was gone, her lustrous hair and pure wings leaving behind a trace of longing in Riene’s heart. She reached out for Rebecca, because she loved her and she feared for her, but could not move.
“No…Becky, wait,” she whispered hoarsely. There was no use calling her back; she was determined to see this through, even to the end. Thoughts of what her life would be life without Rebecca haunted Riene’s thoughts, and with a determined push, she broke away from her paralysis and ran after the woman she loved. No matter what happened now, they would share the same fate.
……
Rebecca was not the only person who felt compelled to visit Helios 2. Aseria was actually at the ramp before Amy, her bare black skin almost glowing as the Dauntless fell through the deadly Venusian atmosphere. Sharyn soon followed, smiling proudly, awaiting this new adventure— and Lyara was by her side, of course, a little shy as she starting undressing with her lover. There was also Allegra and Kate, Fuuka and Athena, Shana, Herut, and Eve, and even an enthusiastic Naja.
“So, you all just couldn’t resist! Any excuse to get naked, right?”
“I think it’s because Amy has worked her way into our hearts,” Athena said, smiling at Fuuka. Valti laughed as she and Vimmy joined the group.
“So, it’s finally come down to an orgy! Arms, don’t fail me now!” She started to undress, proud of her naked body (having six arms puts a lot of things into perspective). Brignor laughed at their reaction and said, “I’m only kidding! Look, it’s not that I don’t have any faith in you, Amy— it’s just that I’m wondering why we aren’t wearing any clothes. That’s normally Chandra’s shtick.”
“Well excuse me for enjoying myself,” Chandra snorted.
“It’s simple,” Amy replied as she disrobed. “It’s very warm down there. And we won’t need them.” She even unraveled her hair, removed her glasses, disposed of her cane, and took off the bandages from her foot. Fuuka was about to admonish her, but Athena held her back, silencing her. Mink and Rebecca soon arrived, and Riene after them (which made Hill enormously happy). A few faces turned red as they noticed all the bare skin, but once Amy offered her childish explanation, it seemed like the best, and the only, thing to do, even if there were a few doubts remaining. Rebecca and Riene were particularly sketchy about undressing in front of everyone— and each other— but all that nudity became fairly comforting after a time. It was one thing to be naked before a group of people in their clothes; it was entirely different sharing one’s nudity with others. There was much less to be shamed about, and even a little to be thankful for.
“You know,” Riene smiled as she spared a glimpse at Rebecca, “your wings are very pretty. I mean…you’re very pretty in general, but…”
“Um, thank you,” she replied, not daring to turn around, lest she lose control. “I, um…I like them, too.” Soon the only people missing were Rachel, Yenae, and Alala— and the latter arrived just before the ship touched down on the harsh surface. The Felinis was marching proudly, determined to follow Amy into this dangerous journey, her hair combed and her fur washed and scented. Her eyes were as determined as Miracle’s, and though she was afraid of what was to come, she put a brave face on and stared at the crew with a righteous passion as she crossed her arms.
“You’re not going anywhere without me.”
“I was hoping you’d come!” Amy exclaimed. She actually looked beautiful now that she wasn’t wearing such a humdrum outfit. Many people are improved by the clothes they wear; Amy actually seemed improved by her nudity, even though her body was hardly enviable. Alala smiled…well, cattily.
“I can’t just sit by and watch my friends risk life and limb without me. So are we all going swimming or something?”
“You could say that,” Amy replied mysteriously. Several people were confused by this statement and raised concern.
“Wait, swimming? On Venus? Okay, now I know she’s cracked.”
“So leave,” Valti said, giving Kyrie a shove. “More naked goodness for us.” Kyrie grumbled at her ex-lover and decided to stay just to spite her. Alala was about to lift her shirt off when her stalker arrived, her timing as excellent as ever, and purred at all the bare skin before her.
“Oh my, are we finally having an orgy?”
“See, see?!” Valti flailed. “It’s not just me! You’re all thinking it— I’m actually saying it!!” Yenae smiled for joy as she glomped her “fuzzy bums”; Alala turned red and quickly covered herself up.
“You stay here!! I don’t need your lecherous paws all over me!”
“Silly girl!” she sang. “Do you think I’m just going to stay behind and let my huggy kitten go off into certain doom? Of course not! I’m going with you!” And with that, she began to undress, exposing beautiful roasted-umber skin and gorgeous tattoos enveloping her lithe, muscular body. It was enough to make Chandra jealous; Alala tried not to stare.
“Wh…why are you always following me around?!” she stammered. “Urgh, you are the most annoying…”
“So you don’t want me to come with you, even though I’m perfectly willing to risk my life? Or don’t you believe that I love you?”
“That…” She froze in anger and dragged the mischievous imp away so they could talk in private. “This is not the time or the place to discuss this! I’m going because I believe in Amy, and she believes in me. You’re only going because— ”
“For the same reasons?” she said rhetorically. She smiled warmly at Alala, and let the last of her clothes drop, entrancing her with her love and beauty. Alala felt herself suffocating; it was almost impossible to resist her now. “I’m going because I believe in you, Alala. Because I love you. That’s why I’m with you all the time. Even if you turn and walk away, I will never stop loving you. Even if you really are heading for your death, I will never stop following you. Even if you never believe me, I…” She couldn’t say any more; her tears were getting in the way, and she was shaking.
So Alala decided to do something she had yearned to do for months, and held her.
“I love you too,” she whispered. Their eyes met and she smiled through tears of her own. “I love you! And I’m sorry it took me so long to— ”
She was silenced with a kiss that had been delayed far too long.
“We can save the sweet nothings for later, darling. Right now, we have an adventure before us. After that, we shall have all the time we want to catch up.”
“But I want you right now,” Alala whispered, staring hungrily into her eyes. Yenae laughed and helped undress her, kissing until the Felinis was sated.
“I promise to be all the sweeter when we return.” Alala nodded; they were ready.
“Welcome back, lovebirds!” Kate shouted as the duo returned, their tails and hands entwined. Alala turned red and screamed at her; Yenae just laughed and said how proud she was. Once they amassed next to their companions, twenty-three nude women ready to face their deadliest challenge yet— many of them conflicted with their uncertainty, yet ready to follow Amy even into the gates of Hell— the Dauntless landed, and they prepared themselves.
The hatch opened, a gust of air blew into the ship…
And their world was unmade.
……
The first sensation they remembered was the crash of waves against a shore.
The experience of stepping into this alien world was very much like being born: first you have to shut your eyes because the light is so powerful, and then your skin tingles and pricks up as an entirely new environment wraps itself around you. Soon you can listen to the noise, or the music, the world has to offer, but your eyes are still shut, tears streaking out as you strain, with unyielding desire, to see what you have spent so much of your “pre-life” reaching for. While this is going on, the sensations divide themselves, and become sharper and easier to recognize; if they did not, if they came at you all at once, it would be agony, far more unbearable than the worst pains.
First of all, the sounds: waves against the shore, a volcanic and cacophonous harmony of roaring foam and churning wind and water approaching, thrashing itself against solid surface, guided by forces beyond control or comprehension— each lap, splash, and wave acting wholly on the planet’s shifting moods: calm or fierce, tranquil or upset, loving or merciless. Following this, an even greater division of sensations as the crash of water becomes distinct from the song of birds— or perhaps it should be said that they were flying creatures, for a great many of them made songs sharply contrasting the shrill, chirruping flute.
It sounded like there were chimes rushing in the air, hand-crafted glass and metal tinkling against itself in the breeze, or the somber noise of brass and bronze striking, bells tolling, and the great laughter of wind that whirled as the creatures who made these songs— creatures who could fly but were certainly not birds— soared as kings and queens in the most startling world yet. But oh, the song of the birds! Can you still hear it? Can you ever remember a song that made you weep more openly, a melody that paralyzed you with its sweetness, a Gloria that surpassed all of time, and space, and left you breathless? Can you hear them? Can you remember?
And now, Venus delivered her rich perfumes and her gentle breezes. It was a hot world, certainly, and one could tell just by standing there that clothes were really unnecessary, but the warmth was neither stifling nor intolerable: you felt like you could live in it and shun the shade for all your years. The breeze was also warm, but more like a perfume wafting across the sea, carrying salt and spices and fragrances so far removed from anything else discovered that you could almost mistake them for colors, or images, or even a quiet undertone to the Venusian symphony. There was also a twinge of fruit, unmistakable in the aromatic air, and of living creatures— perhaps the birds, perhaps the other creatures that flew— and of strange plants and flowers come from afar.
It was a spectacular way to be introduced to the Morning Star. Having everything thrown at them at once would be overpowering, even if everything were beautiful. They could endure the filth of other worlds; they could not endure this beauty for long unless they were guided into it gradually. Not for nothing were they blinded by their own tears and sensational awe. But now their vision returned to them, allowing pictures to fill in for the songs, and the perfumes, and the warmth that seemed to rise up from the very ground and the sea and the air and the golden ceiling above.
They could not see the sun. As far as the eye could tell, from distant glimmering white horizon to the rich, almost orange apex of sky above, the world was clothed in gold, gold, gold, beautiful juicy bullion as soft as liquid and as majestic as creation. It made sense when you understood that Venus’s atmosphere was much thicker than the Earth, that they had a veil to protect them from the overwhelming embrace of Deep Heaven, and that no outsider— or Venusian— could see past this barrier. There was no sun because it cast its unfiltered light everywhere. And now their curiosity drove them to see what in all the world made that harmonic glittering sound— of bells and chimes and metal— and they looked up, squinting in the golden morning, first observing the birds whose song they had recognized, and then the object of their desires, deep crimson and golden-orange creatures with scales and membrane, horns and great flailing whiskers, hands and feet webbed and clawed, tails long, sleek, and muscular, and eyes dark, deep with wisdom, penetrating and somber. They realized they were dragons.
Now their thoughts turned to more earthly matters. Their vessel was forgotten behind them, stretched out on an empty, flat plane that seemed like it was designated only for that purpose. Below them, the ground was as firm and golden-green as you could hope for, with some heathery growth and plants that were like seaweed, like palms, like pines— and a ziggurat. But before they could notice this, they had to take the ocean into account, for it was their welcoming committee, a sea wilder and greater than any body they had seen, the waves furious like a squall’s, ever-shifting and rolling, an aquatic countryside that was never the same shape twice. Beyond it, far on the outer edge of the utmost horizon, a few people swore they saw islands— or perhaps there were just whales, for the tiny silvery shapes faded if you stared at them long enough, vanishing with the roaring sea.
Many of the birds (and the dragons) made the island they had landed on their home. The dragons were, not surprisingly, hardly bigger than the birds; some you could fit in the palm of your hand. When they flew, they sounded like wind chimes; one or two of the longer ones were coiled around the trees, sleeping like a snake might. Having the slightest glimpse of the island gave way to even greater curiosity, for now the crew put their full attention to the ziggurat. They realized their error in judgment as they looked upon it, for no hand made this save the hand that made the world. They were rocks, long tall rectangular rocks carved with uncanny precision, a massive stairway fit for a giant that reached up, up, up, up into the auric sky.
Normally words are quite slow, and by the time you finish reading them, hours or days or centuries may have already passed. This time, however, the words run too quickly: it took nearly an hour for the crew to absorb and understand everything around them. Never mind the sheer, petrifying beauty of this radical environment: they were also stricken dumb by how greatly mistaken all their preconceived notions had been, and how a Hell like the one they read about could ever be anything like this. None of them dared to move, or even to speak, lest they break the exquisite design around them and show themselves as an affront to everything sacred and pure. So they just stood there, full of awe, their mouths open and their eyes bursting with tears— never tiring, never ceasing to be amazed.
It was Miracle, of all people, who finally spoke.
“Behold, Perelandra, the Living Paradise.” She faced her friends with wind-whipped hair, glowing with golden light from the atmosphere above them. She knew exactly what was going through their minds: she knew they needed an explanation. “Protected since its ascension eons ago by a Craft far more powerful than the glory of Atlantis and Alfheim, accessible only to those who are permitted to come, she is a Heaven disguised as a Hell, the ultimate safeguard for her people until the time comes for her barrier to break, for Deep Heaven to penetrate her virginal shell, for Perelandrians to fully rise into the Field of Arbol and make themselves known, when all may walk upon her islands and swim of her seas. That is the truth of the grand deception— that none may come here or see Perelandra for what she is without Her consent. Only a select few have been given this privilege before. This is my second.”
She descended toward the nearby ocean, standing upright for the first time since anyone could remember, temporarily freed from her curse now that she was in a world that had transcended pain and suffering. Her heel still bled— splotches of red puddles trickled to the rich surface— but it seeped so thinly that Miracle hardly noticed. Like Aphrodite wading back into the foam from whence she sprang, Miracle stepped into the heavenly ocean, bent down, and— to everyone’s surprise— drank from the abundant waters. The group was still petrified with awe, but a few of them snapped out of their daze and ran into the shore, acutely thirsty. Herut reached them first, bent down, took a sip…
“It’s good,” she exclaimed aloud. Everyone followed her example but remained silent; they still wanted to absorb everything and make it a part of themselves. Not only were the waters of Venus potable, but delicious and refreshing, better than the purest, coldest spring water. One felt energized and strangely satisfied after a few draughts, as if they had eaten a magnificent banquet that fulfilled both body and soul.
“Wow, it is good,” Aseria stated. She had dined on the fanciest morsels, the rarest delicacies, and the most expensive and hard-to-make dishes in all the galaxy, yet now she knew she would only be eating dust ever after, and would forever thirst for this water. She took another drink, but had to force herself to stop, or else she would burst. A few of the others had better discipline; Mink stopped after only one mouthful, and Valti satisfied with just three sips.
“Now I know why this planet is so well-protected,” Riene stated. “If people knew about this place, they would launch an invasion and slaughter one another for this water.” She looked over to get a response from Rebecca, temporarily forgetting their nudity. Their eyes met, wandered around…and suddenly they realized that their lack of clothing was the least of their concerns. It might be hard to imagine, but nakedness no longer concerned them, probably because it felt so natural to be that way in a world like this. The original Father and Mother knew no shame in their paradise; why should there be any here? Even so, they learned quite a lot about each other. As they stared and smiled, they both thought the exact same thing:
Wow, so that’s her natural hair color!
“Perelandra has far more to offer than water,” Amy said, now crouching by the shore. She reached her hand out and half-sang, half-called for something. At first, nobody could notice any change in the sea, but those who had sharper eyes spotted a shockwave, or a splash, soaring through the wild waves, ripples foaming and churning in its wake. A large silvery-black object was swimming through the water, powerful like a torpedo but graceful as a dolphin, coming to a gentle halt and poking a large, bullet-shaped head out of the sea, a spark of animal intelligence in its huge, glassy eyes. It looked like a fish, but was as large as a manatee, and its back was flat and round, like a tadpole. The others stared at it warily, but only because it was an alien creature, and all living beings are cautious of that which is different.
The fish meant no harm and allowed Amy to ride it. It suddenly occurred to everyone that this made a great deal of sense, and that if you wanted to get anywhere on Venus, you would have to summon a fish and ride upon it, or else swim and hope for the best. Herut, the one nearest to Amy, stood up and peered over the bluish-whitish-gold horizon, searching for the dots of land she had spotted earlier. She screwed up her eyes, cringed, stood on her toes, and even asked mink to hold her on her shoulders— but she couldn’t see anything.
“What are you looking for?” Mink said.
“I thought I saw some land in the distance. Must’ve been my imagination.”
“It’s not your imagination,” Miracle said. “Perelandra has Fixed Land, which we’re on right now, and Shifting Lands, which is what you saw. This area is forbidden to the natives, but there’s another Fixed Land that I have come all this way to visit. The Shifting Lands— ”
“Wait, wait, wait! Back up a second! Are you saying that people live here?”
“Not on this land,” she explained patiently. “On the Shifting Islands. They’re forbidden to come here, or at least to sleep here. Like I was saying, the Shifting Lands— ”
“But you also mentioned somewhere you came to visit.”
“Yes, that’s right: the Holy Mountain of Aphallin. In a way, it was the reason I started this voyage in the first place. Anyway, the Shifting Lands ride on the w— ”
“But why didn’t you just go here at the beginning?!” the Acherons demanded. “Why did we run around half the galaxy when we could’ve just come here instead?”
“Isn’t the answer obvious?” she snickered. “First of all, nobody wanted to come here. I told you right from the beginning that we would go anywhere you pleased, and we have. Secondly, I wasn’t allowed to come until just recently. In fact, I might be a little early.”
“A little early?! For what?”
“I’ll explain it later…if I can. Now— before I’m interrupted again— the Shifting Lands— ”
“This is crazy,” Naja gushed as she fell to the ground. Everyone else looked just as exhausted. Amy sighed in frustration.
“You know what? I’ll let you find out for yourselves. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll be heading off to Aphallin now, but you’re all free to do as you please. I would recommend, however, that you spend the night on the Shifting Islands. I’ll see you later.”
“But…” Amy either didn’t hear or chose to ignore her crew; in any case, she mounted the fish, kicked its sides, and hung on as it swam through the ocean, as fast as a car, fading and disappearing into a tiny speck in the ocean. She was gone.
“That doesn’t help us much,” Naja grumbled. She took another drink and decided to try her luck, moving to the shore and calling a fish. This time, a whole school swam up to her, their sleek, bulbous heads enthusiastic and wise, eager to bear their masters wherever they chose. Naja was a little overwhelmed and picked the furthest one away from her, reasoning that it would not have to cram through its excitable siblings. She had to swim a little, and climbing on the fish was harder than Amy made it look, but eventually she mounted it and rode off into the horizon— a frightening through since nobody knew where anything was. They quickly decided to stay together as a team and followed the Elshyrin’s example.
……
“Oh dear,” Riene sighed as she approached the large fish. Everyone had already ridden off, leaving just her. It wasn’t as if she didn’t want to go exploring— hearing about these Shifting Islands aroused a desire that surpassed hunger and thirst and even love— it’s just that…well, she was afraid she would drown. Oh, that fish certainly looked large enough and sturdy enough to support her, but should she lose her grip, or fall, or be cast aside if it turned sharply… And she had no idea where the closest shore was. She put her bare feet in the water, felt revived, and approached the school. There were still plenty of fish left in the sea; it was almost as if they were floating there to give her a choice. She wondered if it was possible to discern the steadiest among them when one of her companions rode back, straddling her steed with perfect grace. It was Rebecca.
“I’m sorry, I forgot,” she said with an apologetic smile. “You’re not very comfortable around the water, are you? Here, hop on with me. I’ll hold onto you so you don’t fall off. These wings give me really great balance!”
“Uh…I appreciate it,” she stammered. Rebecca helped her mount the beast, their hands clasping tightly, their faces aglow with scarlet, golden light, and told her how to hold on with her hands and legs. It was not unlike riding a horse, which Riene had a great deal of skill with. She felt her entire body exploding with renewed joy and excitement as Rebecca clutched onto her shoulders— and then timidly put her arms around her naked waist— and clung tight. It would have been a sexual act were it not for the purity of Venus, the delights they had succumbed to earlier, and the peculiarity of their situation. Riene leaned back, into Rebecca’s safe care, and smiled brightly as they sailed off together, powered by strong fins and strong wings.
Riding on the fish gave everyone time to reflect on what they had seen. Shana felt despair, for she knew she was unworthy of replicating this ethereal utopia onto canvas, even with her skill. She would ache at the very memory of it ever after, and would always be yearning to return, even if only to catch one more glimpse. But she knew it was her task to replicate these worlds, even though she may fail, and show them to Alan. Surely Venus would be her very last, though: there would be no point in painting now that she came across perfection. Mink, too, was in a hopeless daze: she had barely even moved since her arrival. Joff was a beautiful, enchanting paradise, unspoiled by the outer civilizations and untouched by modern technology, but it seemed ugly and coarse now: she despaired returning home for fear of drawing a comparison.
Aseria was not one for weeping, but now she couldn’t stop, and had to drag her black arm across her face every few seconds. Alfheim, too, was a utopia, and in her life she had visited worlds that took her breath away and brought her to her knees, but never— not even in her most fantastic dreams— had she imagined such a place as this ever existed. She felt a surge run through her blood, in and out of her skin and around her bones until it penetrated every cell in her body and shot out of her like rays of light from the sun. She looked over at her distant cousin and wondered if Lyara was feeling the same— that in some unexplainable way, they had at last come to a world that resembled their Home, the Undying Lands of the True West, where elves were said to first originate. The sea had always made Aseria feel melancholy, and now it was all around her. But then she finally sighted the Shifting Islands Amy spoke about, and forgot all about these feelings. Here was something that surpassed them all.
If their first arrival to Venus had brought silent awe and majesty, their approach to the Shifting Islands drew this out and strengthened it until it was no longer a mere feeling, but a way of living— a thought, an ideal, a real, tangible object they could take in their hands and squeeze. The shore lapped against the shifting land, and the fish strayed close to the shore, indicating that they could all swim from here on. Fuuka was the first; she had never felt healthier in all her life: not when she met Athena, not before she came down with her terminal illness, not even when she made love. An energy burst through her and, if it did not tear her apart first, it gave her the sensation of floating, gracefully soaring into the thrilling air and falling back down again upon soft, springy, heathery surface, laughing and giggling as she rolled around.
“Whoa!” Athena cried out as she tried to join her lover, and fell flat on her face. But if there was any pain, it was only with her pride: the fall was as pleasant and enjoyable as collapsing on pillows. She laughed as well, in spite of her hardcore stoicism, and pounced on Fuuka so they could play and wrestle. Valti had a slightly better time of it, since having four extra limbs gave her improved balance. She lasted all of two steps before stumbling; Naja decided to crawl along the ground, and got considerably further. She made it to a tree and used it to climb back up to her feet.
“What’s up with this place?” she wondered, too content to curse. Everyone tentatively followed them, but they all met the same fate: they all stumbled and fell, and laughed as they bounced and worked their way up again. There was no doubt now that these were Shifting Islands, for their surface was not a constant like the surfaces of many other worlds, but rolling, pitching, swerving, and undulating, like the sea. Walking on it was very much like trying to cross one of those “Moonwalk” rides. The surface was just as unstable and shaky, with only the slightest bit of firmness there that kept you from slipping through. Treading it took careful timing and delicate grace, but if you fell, you just met a pleasant end, and with the warm weather, the pungent perfumes, and the thrilling freedom of nudity, you saw little reason to get back up again— perhaps only so you could wobble around and fall.
Rebecca cheated; she managed to prevent herself from stumbling by using her wings. It was the first time anybody saw her exercise her newfound skill, and more than a few were jealous. This made her feel better about her situation, more proud of her “deformity”. Up until now, she had been struggling to merely accept them; now she was slowly embracing her new self. They might have been father’s only gift, but they were a greater treasure than she could ask for. She wondered if, one day, she would be able to really fly with them.
“I get it now!” Lillianne shouted, in response to Naja’s question. It had taken her awhile to guess the secret behind the islands’ strange behavior, largely due to adjusting herself to its movements. When she acquired some semblance of balance, Lil could glance out over the ocean and spot another Shifting Island, and easily deduce its behavior. The island they first landed on was indeed fixed; these rolled and moved with the waves, so that if the ocean was calm, then the islands took a fairly flat appearance, and if there was a storm…
“They’re not tethered down to the ground,” she noted. “That’s unbelievable. I mean, I’ve been to a few gas worlds where they have floating continents, and I’ve been on ships in the ocean…but this is completely different. It’s like spreading a giant towel over the water and then trying to walk on it. No wonder we keep falling.”
“At least it doesn’t hurt,” Shana said. She had already tried to determine what was underneath the soil, and discovered a layer of tough, interwoven fibers that kept everything afloat. The Acherons had swam out to see what was underneath, and described it as “something a jellyfish would have”. Sacks of membrane were stuffed underneath, acting as flotation devices; this, combined with the fiber, kept the islands afloat on the endless seas. But even the islands did not keep their shape for long: sometimes the wind and the waves saw fit to break them apart, or to mesh them together, so that an island one day would be a continent the next, and vice-versa. It was a wild and unpredictable world but still Paradise by any definition.
“Oh!” Aseria exclaimed as she sat up. “What’s that smell?”
“Which one?”
“It’s so distinct from the others. It smells like food…but I really can’t be sure anymore. Even the water and the air smell different here.”
“Should we really be eating so soon?” Mink wondered. “Drinking without food is different than eating without drink.”
“I know, and…I don’t feel particularly hungry, but…oh, I just want to look, I want to see…” She wandered off aimlessly in search of whatever could be giving off that wonderful aroma, stumbling and slipping every so often. A few of the others followed, especially Fuuka, whose nose was perhaps the sharpest and could pick out the smell most distinctively. She remembered a dream of hers where she came across a secret garden, by herself, and was allowed into the gate, on the condition that she pick only one fruit. The garden was lush and teeming with choice delicacies that would make Kings grovel and Queens prostrate, but she resisted them all, focusing on a single, spherical blossom that glowed like a tiny sun. The dream ended as she touched the fruit and was changed; into what, she never knew. But she felt she recognized that smell, and followed it aggressively, even bending down to run on all fours.
As Athena and the others followed (as best they could), they found themselves running into a grove that contained fruit of a very glassy, opaque nature. The trees were rather smallish, so if you weren’t watching where you were going, and if it was a level field, you’d run right into the fruit. They picked their way through delicately; Kyrie reached up, with her scientist’s inquisitiveness, and plucked one of the fruits, but it burst as soon as she touched it, exploding into a gooey, translucent liquid that was not unlike soapy water. After smelling and tasting it, she decided it was unfit for consumption, and wondered what it was for. When Eve accidentally stumbled into a bushel and got her face all wet, it was decided that these were bubble-trees, and that running through a grove of them was better and more exciting than a shower.
It felt like hours before anybody could start seriously walking: hours of bent knees, arms stretched out, carefully watching the contours of the environment and anticipating a sudden curve or slope. During those hours, they went from tree to tree, grasping and being splashed in the process, or falling and lying in the sun, growing more ignorant about their state of undress. They might have mastered their legs sooner, were it not for the joy of falling and the comfort of the ground below them; indeed, a handful chose not to move at all, but rather stayed behind, basking and drinking, content with little else. But even rich water requires food, and eventually everyone had to try their legs. Those who worked hardest were finally able to catch up to those who had better balance (Alala, Yenae, Valti, Rebecca, and especially the smaller ladies), and when they did, they discovered the source of the pleasant aroma that had been drifting through Venus like the music of dragons’ flight.
The trees had slender bark, as curvy as the islands they were planted on, and yet they were more erect than any of the visitors, for they stood firm upon the thin ground and seemed as deeply-rooted as mountains. At first their fruit looked like grapes, for they were perfectly round and clustered close together; however, each orb was the size of an orange, and glowed like the sun. If you listened very closely, you could hear the music getting just a little quieter and a little more solemn around them— or maybe it was just a trick of the wind. In any case, it was impossible to get to them without climbing, so Athena volunteered. It wasn’t until she got a good footing that she remembered she had left her sword behind.
“Let me try,” Rebecca said. She jumped as high as she could, and, straining, flapped her wings furiously, staying airborne for a few seconds before returning to the ground. As she tried this again, Naja slithered up impatiently and took a huge cluster in her hands. Normally she would have devoured the whole thing— the whole tree if it were possible— but something buried deep into her soul told her to refrain from greed, if only just this once. She picked off several golden orbs and tossed them to her companions, taking only one for herself. The rind seemed hard, and at first, nobody knew how they could eat them— but then Allegra accidentally slipped her finger through the skin, penetrating deep, and soon everyone began to eat.
They had meant to extract the smallest experimental nibble, but the first taste put all their caution away. It was, naturally, a taste, just as everything else had been an image or a sound or a scent, but then it was so different from every other taste that it seemed formal and stiff to say taste at all. It was more like a discovery, something unheard, beyond all reckoning or language. That everyone got her own unique reaction to the fruit proved its power. You couldn’t generalize it because everyone’s response was radically different, and yet they all reached the same conclusion. If the water would draw people to battle, a single taste of this fruit would cause genocide and betrayal. Before anyone could render speech or thought to it, the fruit was gone, every bit devoured with meticulous care; they did not want to miss a single speck. Several were about to reach for another, but they stopped themselves, just as Naja had stopped.
“It wouldn’t be right,” Eve said, pulling herself away from a cluster. “There is such a thing as too much goodness. It’s just like the water. We should move on for something else.”
“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I agree,” Lil said. She looked to Aseria, who had been weighing a second gourd with deep thought and care. Even Naja had refused a second helping; the Sindar put it away reluctantly.
“I should never have come to this place,” she murmured mournfully. “Now I think I will not want to leave, not even for all the galaxy. And yet…I do believe I must. It’s going to be painful, see, because we’ll be moving out of goodness into filth. Everything outside of this golden dome is in such ruins. There can no longer be any beauty for me.”
“Snap out of it,” Yenae said, giving her a gentle kick. “Stand up and be a woman about it! There’s good and then there’s Good. I for one have things to look forward to when we leave! I’m going to explore a bit of this place, see what kind of people they have. Don’t sit there moping when we’ve got perfection all around us. Alala?” The Felinis had climbed another tree and was bringing down something that looked like nuts, or beans, or some small fruit that was vaguely familiar. She gave one to Yenae and another to Aseria; when she ate it, she stood up again, and was content. This must’ve been “ordinary” Venusian fare, the kind you might say a special blessing over, while the golden gourds required a benediction or meditation.
“Might want to reconsider,” she said, looking at the horizon. The Venus that Earth natives knew and the Venus they were walking on right now had at least one thing in common: they both revolved in the same direction. The western sky was darkening very quickly, and with no electricity, no fire, no stars, and no moon, it would grow pitch black soon. A few of the girls were afraid, but Shana at least looked like she was prepared.
“I think as long as we stay here, we shouldn’t have anything to worry about. I haven’t seen any dangerous animals— those dragons looked harmless to me— and we won’t have to worry about getting cold. I can see now why Amy said we should spend the night here! I wouldn’t want to walk or sleep on that awful hard ground if I could help it.”
“But it was just morning a few…” Kyrie stopped herself and reconsidered what she was saying. Without any clear direction where the sun was, it was impossible to tell the time, so it very well may have been late afternoon, or even early evening, when they first arrived. Even if that were not so, they had spent a lot of time drinking in the Venusian world, and riding on the fish, and learning how to walk, and eating.
“I know, we thought that Venus’s daily cycle was 243 Earth-days long, which is actually longer than its year.”
“But a lot of our preconceptions about this planet were proven wrong today.”
“We’re on a world where anything is possible.”
“A bit unnerving, but also very exciting.” The Acherons smiled and nodded at each other. Night came sooner than anyone expected, and it was darker and deeper than they had imagined. If you have ever been so deep in a cave, when they turn the lights out for a moment, where you can’t tell if your eyes are shut or open, you can understand the depth of blackness that surrounded them. But the waves were still rolling, the perfumes were still drifting in the sky, and the soft coo and purr of birds and dragons— along with the night-call of other animal life— were still crying, and that made their rest all the more settling. Even so, nobody could be blamed for clinging to someone throughout the night.
……
All this time Amy Blithe Miracle had been making her way to the Holy Mountain Aphallin, the only other Fixed Land on Venus and the only one of its kind the natives could dwell upon. She was on a journey that was nearly three years in the making, now facing a future that could either lead to its conclusion, or its indefinite continuation. She never told anyone the true purpose of her mission— out of shame, neglect, or necessity— but now, three years after it first began, she would come here to see the next stage, what she was expected to do, and what possibilities would come of it. Venus was, after all, the place where she received her wound that would not heal, and on Venus, she hoped, a cure could finally be found.
She knew her way to Aphallin well; she had underwent excruciating pain to visit that sanctuary, and any moment that causes you that sort of agony is not something you can easily forget. Her heel had been the least of her worries, although back then, the wound was fresh and the pain closer to her heart. Now she could bear it, with some difficulty, and now that she was within the sphere of Venus, the burden was even easier. But body and soul had been torn apart during her first journey; now she could pick her way through as an experienced veteran, one who knew the twists and turns and potential dangers still in her way. She could, essentially, arrive without too much difficulty— without too much, but not without none.
She was not on her way to the mountain just to see the mountain itself, or anything else the island might hold for her. Perhaps she also knew that merely healing her injury was not the true purpose for her return, although she could certainly hope it would be added. Miracle had been suffering for three years and exploring half the galaxy for a better reason than that: she was going to keep an appointment, not with a native but another outsider, specifically a man: the oldest, wisest, most powerful, and most important man living, though only a small number would recognize his name and office.
Yet even this was not the true reason for her voyage. Merely meeting a man, or even adding him to her crew, would not be enough. She could only guess what her return would yield, what her meeting would enable her to accomplish. Perhaps his assistance, or guidance; perhaps a tool, or some information; perhaps merely an answer. She had only met him once and he had rebuked her harshly— but he had also sent her out on her long, arduous journey. Yes, she was going to meet the very person responsible for all this, in a sense. But of course he would not have been responsible if she were not; the two of them began everything together, and would hopefully end it as well.
Long ago she had been instructed to visit this seemingly-hostile world, and was guaranteed safe arrival— but little else. She had been given no sense of direction and no clear purpose, until a voice called out to her several weeks later, almost imperceptible above the ocean’s roar and her own doubts, telling her to look to the wide open sea. From there she drifted, as she drifted now, hopelessly lost yet compelled to obey— desiring obedience. She had not been told what to look for but could not mistake it once she saw it: a great piercing mountain straddling the only other solid piece of Venusian land, a peak that seemed inaccessible but was easier to climb than she thought. There, inside a grand cavern that was illuminated by fire from below and glowing crystalline formations above, she had supped upon the inner fruits and met the man to whom she had been destined to see. She had bestowed to him a gift, and in return, he had sent her on her journey. The injury she had sustained during her mother’s accident remained, even to this very day.
“So that I may not forget,” she sighed, clasping her ankle as her steed took a break. He had been swimming for hours— for a day and a night— and needed to rest his fins. Miracle wondered if she could summon another fish and resume her travels. She knew there were Mer-folk beneath the waves, as far removed from other Mer-folk as the natives of this world were from other humans. Director Astor’s wife was a descendant of that race; so was Sharyn and her people, if she wasn’t mistaken. The green skin and majestic innocence (so regal and austere as opposed to the sweet, stupefying innocence of children) were giveaways; their sexuality was proof that the lineage was long and winding. No proper Perelandrian dabbled like Sharyn— or her father.
Another fish came and took over the work of its brother. Miracle slept lightly while it was still dark, clutching the fish with her limbs, and woke as a wave slapped her face, refreshing and alarming her. She stopped to visit a few lonely Shifting Islands and pick fruit for her journey, only taking as much as she could hold (since she obviously didn’t have any pockets). She yearned to get another glimpse of the beautiful, wise natives, but knew her journey would take her away from them, and was content simply to be back. The last stage of her journey was coming: she would soon keep her appointment with the man, and after that…
“Probably not a good idea to think too much about the future,” she reasoned. Even if this man were to help her, she could not foresee how: he was no ordinary creature. Miracle had a faint idea where he came from and what his purpose was, because he had given her Solomon’s Ring, the only article she wore, and entrusted one of the last free Djinni to her care. Possessing such an item indicated he must’ve been as ancient as history itself, at the very least, though Amy believed he reached even further than that, back beyond the rise of the oldest civilizations, long before pagan gods roamed the world, before the construction of the UCM, before space travel was even possible. And in truth, this is what she had truly been sent out to see: not a man, but an age.
For the tales of Plato and Tolkien were not entirely fictional. Once upon a time, there had been a real Atlantis, a real Numenor, a continent of wisdom, learning, and majesty eons before the oldest known country, that rose into power and sank in the sea back when the Earth was very young, just before the final Ice Age that wiped Midgard clean. The man she had been sent out to meet was the very last survivor of the Numenorean disaster, the last to cross the sea and set foot in merry Middle-Earth, the student of Ar-Pharazon the Golden, the proudest and most powerful king of Numenor. His name was Oris and he had been given the office of Pendragon.
He had been the very first— passing it to Cassibelaun, who gave it to Uther, who gave it to Arthur. And now, through a succession of over two-hundred Pendragons, he was the very last. This was the man Miracle was going to meet.
Her successor.
……
It took Miracle two days and three fish to arrive at the island, but it would probably take her another day to arrive at the appointed designation. First she had to make it to shore and carefully avoid the small, kangaroo-like mice scurrying along the sand, sniffling and hopping and gathering grains for their homes. She found a very familiar vine and snatched a cluster of grapes, resting and regaining her strength for the final leg of her journey. When she first arrived here, she had spent countless days resting and eating— partially because she was exhausted and wounded from scraping around, partially because she knew she would need the strength of the planet for her voyage. Now she only paused for an hour. She respectfully buried the stems and the seeds and resumed her travels, wondering if she would see any native pilgrims here.
Explaining and describing her long trek would take more pages than I would like to devote, and it mainly consisted of walking, limping, climbing, squeezing through crevasses and openings, stopping to rest, some sleep, and fleeting moments where she encountered Venusian animal life. She remembered one particularly engrossing animal wandering the caverns where she met the Pendragon: large, segmented, long skinny legs, mandibles, a narrow, curved head…she had been frightened of the giant centipede-like creature, but there was no reason for it. Why should she be afraid of something if it had more legs than she did? It had meant no harm and was merely passing through, digging more tunnels and searching for the strange mushrooms that no other animal could consume. It had actually looked fairly beautiful in the bluish-red light.
Miracle was thrilled to tearful paralysis as she stopped and listened to a familiar song. She didn’t dare move, and though she was not tired, she sat down and waited for another friend to appear. Describing this animal took a bit more work, because it had the legs and size of a horse, but was really more like a fawn, and its head was shaped like a tapir’s, yet it made a noise even more beautiful than the birds or the dragons. She recognized the song but only saw a glimpse of the creature before it scampered away. They were very shy creatures and usually lived in the caverns, but perhaps they lived in the jungles, too. She picked herself up, wincing as another gush of blood trickled out her foot, and moved on.
Gradually she found the mountain she had been looking for, picking through trees and crushing beneath her pale rosy flowers that were like violets, or carnations, or lilies, silken and frail to the touch, and the only place in the world where her injury would go unnoticed. She found she had to climb again and set herself to it, using frail, wobbly fingers and frail, bruised knees to hoist herself up a rock face. Only an athlete could have done this on any other world; the climb seemed impossible but was actually enjoyable the higher you got up. Amy remembered falling once, onto the red flowers, and was startled when she couldn’t tell if she had been bleeding or merely covered with petals. Now, though, she was an experienced woman, albeit still clumsy, and only had a few scratches to show for her ascent. A native would’ve made it look as easy as walking: she knew; she had seen them do it. Too bad there weren’t any around.
There was a passage in the mountain that led directly to the room where she had first met the Pendragon. Amy had been dizzy with anxiety on her first trip, and was not much improved now, although she had also been relishing this. It was very much like preparing to meet someone important, who you know is good, but also very powerful. Amy imagined this was what Dorothy and her friends felt like when they went to see the Wizard, except this Wizard was real, and incredibly ancient, and very, very dangerous.
The passage went on for about half a mile, Amy leaving a scarlet trail to follow later. As she approached the end of the path, she could see the glow of the great cavern, hallway of Kings and Queens, from which the first Male and Female of this world reigned, with all of their descendents. She hoped in vain to see at least one of them there, but knew that only one man would be there now— that is, if she wasn’t too early. He did say to arrive in three years’ time, and if anything, Wizards are punctual to a fault. As she stepped out of the passage into the cavern, she heard singing, and knew she had come to the final stage of her journey.
It would be impossible to describe what sort of song this was, what it was about, what the lyrics were (if any), how long it had been going on, and when it would end. Amy assumed it wouldn’t be long, though: the singer was none other than the Pendragon, his back to her, his arms upraised, his long flowing hair weaving and bobbing with his subtle gestures, his shadow flickering in six different spots, cast by the light of crystals above. She stood watching him, transfixed, for an uncertain period of time; then, he stopped singing and turned his head a little.
“Pray, be seated, for you have come before the appointed hour, yet I would not turn you away, Mirari.” Amy obeyed and hugged her knees to her chest as the Pendragon finished his song. She was quickly absorbed into the beautiful, enchanting melody— as beyond the mundane glory of the horse-fawn as it had been beyond the birds and the dragons, and they a choir, and they the voice of one. He sang and chanted in a voice that had been lost to the ages, in a language long extinct, perhaps one even Riene would never comprehend (though Merovians might). Amy could pick out a few repeated words and some phrases she recognized from her years studying under Professor Nimrod, but the rest was garbled: wonderfully garbled, though. It was like saying rhythm and harmony itself had words, and you could understand them if you listened well enough. The voice was never the same twice; it never followed any pattern; you felt like you could listen to it for the rest of your life. Amy felt herself fall away from time and space, and wondered if this was what death felt like. It was surely the most spiritual experience of her life.
The Pendragon stopped exactly when he meant to, lowered his arms, and completely turned around to face his visitor. He wore clothes, such as his office dictated, but seemed no more ashamed or concerned with Amy’s nudity than she was. The robes could possibly be described as greenish, and yellow, red, lavender, white— or a myriad of other colors that didn’t have names or descriptions— it was almost like a Rorschach test, whatever you wanted it to be at whatever time, but never really anything: a design of a Craft wrought long, long ago. His solemn reddish-pink face was easily human enough, though his ears were triangular, cloven in two to form a “Y”, and his nose was long, pointed, and it slanted down, so it looked more like an eagle’s beak. He had a small pointed silvery-grey beard, flowing hair, and a cap the same color as his robe. The man was enormous, well over two meters, and his eyes flashed with a charity that might be confused with animal ferocity. To his right (Amy’s left) was a deep chasm that led to further levels down, all the way to the world’s center; to his right was a grove, and out from that grove sprang a tree that was more real than anything Amy had yet seen.
All of this, of course, only took a few seconds to observe, and when it was over, the Pendragon spoke: “The one thousand and ninety-five days of Tellus have passed, and the Silent Planet has performed three revolutions around her center Arbol, blessed life-giver and protector, just as I have decreed. And here you stand before me once again, Mirari, in defiance of the odds, a living homage to your wondrous name. When last we met, words were exchanged and instructions were given, and I had contempt for your ways, but now I welcome you, dear successor, and dearer for the honor you have which no one else may claim. Tell me, Mirari, do you believe yourself close to accomplishing that which I, acting on behalf of powers greater than my own, set you out to achieve?”
“I do, Lord Pendragon,” she replied with a bow. “I have gathered acquaintances to help in my endeavors, and I believe I have penetrated a number of their hearts. It has been the most difficult thing I ever did, and subsequently, the most rewarding. We have also acquired many of the tools necessary to combat our common enemy.”
“But certainly, by no means, do you have them all,” he said, a look of disquieting humor in his eyes. Amy shook her head.
“No, Lord. I beg your pardon, but for what purpose was I instructed to return here, three years ago? What good might you do for me?”
“A sufficient amount, I believe, if I do not perform too little. My Arts alone are insufficient weapons against the Origin. Yet fear not; we have time yet, as long as your journey remains incomplete. Do we not?” His eyes became even sharper, and though he did not smile, he certainly seemed pleased at some dark joke in the back of his mind.
“Yes,” she whispered. “But again, Lord, I ask you: what good will you do for us?” The Pendragon did not answer at first. Instead, he stretched his hand out, towards the tree that had amazed Amy, and carefully pinched off the tiniest twig, whispering something to heal its new wound. The twig began to grow almost immediately, slowly turning into a stick and then into a small branch, until it was as tall as the Pendragon himself, nearly a tree in its own right, and in bloom, too. It seemed like the perfect staff for a Wizard such as himself.
“I?” he said, his voice deep and penetrating. “I will accompany you. It has been foretold that my successor walks with you, she who will continue this holy office. I mean to do some small good for your company before I pass this mantle and retire from this world.” Amy was overjoyed; she didn’t expect that degree of assistance. However, she was a little concerned for her crew. She had no doubt they would not get along with their new companion.
“A word, Lord Pendragon,” she said as they returned to the surface. “You may want to exercise discretion and prudence once we leave the sphere of Perelandra. The world has changed much since your departure.”
“No, I do not believe it has,” he stated, stepping out into the golden sunlight. He glanced at Amy, peering past all of her crude matter into the eternal glory of mind and soul, and clasped the head of his living staff. “It has not changed, Mirari. Not what you would call changed.”
Name: Oris Pendragon
Species: Numenorean
Origin: Numenor
Students: Blaise, Aleazar Kazima
……
Amy didn’t know it, but she spent days wrapped under the Pendragon’s song-spell, never even realizing it. During her lengthy absence, the crew of the Dauntless experienced two very startling sensations and one rather mundane one. First, they began to worry about their companion, and a few wondered if they should go out to find her, but they reasoned it would be completely impossible, given the terrain, and that Amy would probably go looking for them whenever she was ready to leave. Second, they met a native— only one, a man, too heartbreaking and noble to describe. Even Chandra was reduced to tears as she felt an unusual longing for him— not merely sexual, but spiritual as well. Sharyn was the most affected, however, for she thought she was kin to them. He had green skin and a wholesome sense of naïveté that can be found in certain animals— not an ignorance but pure innocence, a literal sinless soul.
The third sensation, and by far the most jarring, was the spell the planet had been weaving over them. Ever since their arrival, the women had felt a strong libido building up within them. This was not the crude, indiscriminate frivolity Chandra expressed, nor even the loving sensuality that a number of them were accustomed to. This was Venus descended to drive the world mad, an animal thirst and an angelic hunger to know one another in perfect intimacy, love in its barest form (or close enough). They say “to drive mad” because it only seemed indiscriminate. Those already in love felt it first: Fuuka and Athena, Kate and Allegra, Yenae and Alala, Sharyn and Lyara…
“It’s strange,” Allegra said, “but it doesn’t feel wrong or unnatural at all. It feels like something that’s always been there, and we’ve either ignored it or taken too little of it. Katherine, what do you think?”
“I think we should try and be as private as lovers,” she replied, smiling beautifully. She took Allegra by the hand and they found a fish to ride on; together they made it to the ship, chose a room, and consummated their union. Others weren’t quite as patient: Athena tackled Fuuka and nearly made love to her in front of everybody, and only managed to hold herself off long enough to find a secluded spot. Lyara and Sharyn followed Kate’s example, obviously, but Lillianne and Aseria, both baffled by the feelings bombarding them, headed inland. Even the twins succumbed to Venus’s spell as Kyrie and Valti fought over them.
“Teleah’s my kind of girl! Kayleigh’s more your style anyway!”
“I saw them first! I’m not sharing them with you, you know!”
“This is either the worst day of our life, or the best,” Kay sighed to her sister. Teleah smiled.
“Let’s make it our best and find a room. Did somebody say ‘foursome’?”
“Wouldn’t it be a threesome?” Herut muttered. Shana was cuddling especially close to her, though, and lately her resistance had been fading. Alala and Yenae took one look at each other, silently deciding to keep the promise they made earlier, and ran for the shore.
“This is getting indecent,” Eve complained. Mink laughed quietly.
“But decent is exactly what it’s becoming. Even I feel it.” Kasberry smiled softly at the taller woman and leaned her head against her shoulder.
“Yeah, me too. I guess being sentimental once in awhile won’t hurt.”
“No, it won’t.” Mink leaned over and kissed Eve; I’m not at liberty to discuss what happened after. It seemed that everyone was falling under Venus’s spell, except for Vimmy, who had already returned to the ship, muttering about how unworthy she was of remaining there, and Chandra, who also went back alone. Eventually, everyone decided to return to the ship, whether to make love or just to prepare themselves for liftoff. They each sensed that it was almost time for them to leave, even though they still hadn’t heard from Amy. It was just a feeling they had, like intuition: Miracle would be returning any minute now. Rebecca and Riene were the last to board the ship, but only because Latoli still had a fear of drowning, even after everything she had seen. The spell of Venus was hitting them the hardest, and being naked in each other’s company was practically an invitation. The decision was up to them now.
“That was quite an adventure, wasn’t it?” Riene said at last, smiling feebly. She mentally kicked herself for trivializing such an important event; she may as well say that birth or marriage or graduation was as important as getting the mail. “I’m sorry I doubted you,” she remedied, giving Rebecca an honest smile. At least she was brave enough now to look her in the eye.
“You don’t have to be,” she replied warmly. “It did sound like a crazy idea. Anyway, I’m glad you came. This is one of those things we’ll look back on fondly.”
“Mm-hmm. Um, Becky…” Riene didn’t know how to respond to the magic circulating around her, because she had never really been in love before, not to this degree, and it was a little frightening. But she also knew she wanted this, more than anything, and if the entire planet was behind her as support, how could she go wrong? She was sure that Rebecca wanted this, too. Why else come to her, of all people, after her tribulation with her father? She wanted to throw away her questions and inhibitions for once and take that plunge, even if she hit rock bottom. Surely the brief flight would be worth all her troubles.
“Yes…Riene?” Rebecca whispered. Her mouth opened partially as the two women drew closer. Their eyes met and the warmth from their bare bodies rose and splashed. They felt cool skin as they touched each other’s shoulders— then lowered their hands to the waist. How strong Riene felt, how graceful Rebecca was! They instantly knew that they were meant for each other as they leaned closer still, hearts pounding in their bodies, the entire world cheering for them as their lips came within a hair’s breadth of each other, a fleeting touch…
“Honey, I’m home!!”
And just like that, the spell was broken. They parted from each other, flustered and fumbling, as Amy Miracle stood in the doorway with the Pendragon in tow.
……
Once everyone got dressed and came to their senses, Teleah and Kayleigh Acheron returned to the bridge, feeling numb all over from their experiences— both past and recent. They still had the stink of two lovers around them, even after showering, but they certainly felt no shame for their actions, although they wished, not for the first time, that they were two people with their own body instead of sharing just one. They dutifully lifted the Dauntless from Venus’s clutches and steered her away, back into the cold, numbing humility of space. Amy Miracle joined them shortly, disheveled and dowdy as ever.
“Well, Doctor, what’s our next destination?” they asked her. Miracle took a deep breath and shook her head.
“Honestly, I don’t know.”
The end of Volume 8, “The Field of Arbol”
Stay tuned for Volume 9!
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