//------------------------------// // Chapter 4 // Story: Arcadia // by obscurica //------------------------------// Sweet Apple Acres stood as the largest farmstead in Hopesville, sprawling across countless acres of sun-ripened fruit and rows of thriving vegetables. It was just large enough, in fact, that you can make out the curvature of the inner surface as the rows of apple trees began to lean inward, relative to the farmhouse – still stretched upward, of course, at the distant, shimmering streak of sunlight that comprised the Core Shaft. They were one of the biggest seasonal employers in Hopesville, though the permanent staff was but a small family. Though, by the looks of the farmhouse’s gated exterior, it would be easy to assume otherwise. The Solstice drew in the entire clan – the entire clan – from every corner of the Arcadia, and from the looks and smell, most of their kitchenware as well. They were in charge of catering for this year’s event – an effort they threw themselves into eagerly. Spike lacked the sort of stomach that could growl, but there was a noticeable perking up of the dragon’s plated muzzle. “Mmm, that’s some nice carbohydrates in the air… Hey, we haven’t eaten since we got here!” Mayuya laughed. “Fine, fine. We’ll see if they have anything for you. This is Sweet Apple Acres, right?” “We’ll be looking for a Miss Sylva Estris,”confirmed Spike, nodding. “And… oh, singing?” Mayuya tilted her head. Not far from the entrance to the busy farmstead, underneath a flourishing apple tree, was a small group of fifteen children of various ages, their heads held up high in unified melody. Before them, meekly conducting with airy, light gestures, was a woman with hair a pale, snowy white and dressed in loose pastel-yellow robes. She was an Alkonost, though her wings were diminished in size compared to Vaiva’s, and covered not in the work gear of the darker-hued girl, but bound in gauze of soft pink and white, and draped over her front like a long shawl. She was also significantly taller than the other girl – nearly up to Mayuya, though her retiring stature shrank her presence. “Oh dear,” softly muttered the girl as an enthusiastic young boy of five warbled wildly off-pitch. “Um… please hold on everybody. Yes… Um, Alexander. Alex, dear… just a little… gentler? Yes! Yes, just like that.” She beamed brightly down at the young singer, who mirrored her smile eagerly. “Now, everybody, if we can do it one more-“ “Hi! I see this is the Hopesville children’s…” Mayuya wasn’t expecting the Alkonost woman to give off a small, surprised shriek. Nor for it to cause the children to shriek, more loudly, in delight. Nor for it to then cause the younger ones to run off, yelling loudly still, chased soon after by the older kids, filling the air for a short while with laughter. “…choir. Oh dear.” She coughed. The woman in pink and yellow wilted awkwardly. “Um… hi! I’m Mayuya Kira. What’s your name?” she asked, desperately maintaining cheer. “I’m… I’m… Au…re…lia…” mumbled the white-haired woman quietly, her voice trailing off at the end. “Sorry, I didn’t quite catch that.” “Au..re…” a barely perceptible squeak escaped from her nervous lips. “Aurelia!” called out a full-throated voice. The creak of nearby, wooden gates and thump as it shut. “Aurelia – consarnit, where’d those kids run off to? Aurelia, girl, those tykes aren’t giving you any trouble, are they? Oh, hey! A guest!” The voice’s owner bowed, whipping off a straw Stetson hat politely and revealing long lengths of dark blond hair framing a cherubic face, sun-tanned and freckled. She was a solidly-built woman roughly of Mayuya’s age, wearing a checkered red halter top shirt and jean shorts, long limbs exposing faint green lines, like jade veins through marble-hard, farm-toughed musculature. “Sylva Estris, at your service. And this here’s my good friend Aurelia Humilis.” Aurelia bowed meekly. “Now what can I do for-“ “Is that… is that a baby dragon?” Aurelia gasped and kneeled before the flustered Spike. “Um… hi?” started Spike, nervous by the attention. “Oh, your scales are so pretty. And you can talk!” “Huh, well, I do make sure to eat a well-balanced breakfast of minerals, miss,” said Spike, thrusting a proud chestplate forward. “And regularly polish, of course!” “O, man,” groaned Sylva. “Well, at least she isn’t being shy. She’s gonna be hogging your dragon for a while, I’m afraid. Sorry, what was your name again, miss?” “Ah, sorry. I’m Mayuya Kira.” She stuck out a hand, and winced as the Kuguzan farmer shook it firmly. “I’m here to supervise the preparations for the Solstice Celebration.” “Good! Always glad to meet a new friend,” said Sylva enthusiastically. “Say, you want to see how the refreshments are gettin’ along, yeah? Well, c’mon in! Can’t properly supervise if you don’t get a proper taste!” Mayuya blanched at the word “friend.” “Oh, but I’m sure you’re busy, miss, and I do have a busy schedule, so-“ “Now, don’t be shy! I insist! HEY EVERYBODY!” she shouted with powerful lungs. “SOOOOUUUPPPP’S UP!” The Agun Kuguza, it was said, inhabited the stores where the crops were held. It was, for the most part, a friendly spirit, not prone to mischief – but a small sacrifice of meat was required to sate it, and for that meager gift, it would ensure a plentiful harvest. The Eastern European fable must have been on the mind of the genetic designer that wrestled with a growing problem aboard the Arcadia, years into her voyage. It was a problem of compromise. Human beings were… energetic creatures. The growing race of avian sapients aboard especially so. The skyward gardens were proving increasingly insufficient, driving what was once a fiercely independent race back to the ground – but the groundside occupants were having troubles themselves. There was a growing civil rift – those who claimed that their augmentations and labors, whether nanotechnological or genetic or both, justified their caloric intake… and everybody else. Tennyson’s economic study only worsened it, with the imminent threat of violence simmering below the illusion of peace. A calorie-to-value study was hardly what the ship needed at the time. But it was published, even against the wishes of the Princess, and damned were the consequences. Or, thought a researcher grimly, at least damned was Tennyson, who expired during the first riots. The problem was, perhaps he wasn’t wrong. In another century or two, maybe the ship’s replenished capabilities would be able to sustain them all. But they had to live in the here and now, and “here” was a ship still exhausted from years of struggle, while “now” was a Malthusian brink that they dare not fall over. And so Kristoph Markov improvised and compromised. Desperation does drive creativity so very well – it only took a year’s cycle for him to work out the research grant and permissions for a genetic fabricator, to negotiate with the owners of the largest farmsteads and fab-labs aboard the ship, to set up a distribution system… to monopolize any concurrent research and development. Kuguza-brand “traits” hit the market, bringing genetic optimization and improved health to the common man – even, thanks to the support and subsidization of the government, the poor and needy. It would be nice to say that the man behind the efforts died rich, happy and influential, but in actuality, he died a horrible death from overuse of mutagens and retroviruses, a victim to, alas, compromise of quality. It was the hard work of his assistants and partners that his efforts did not die in vain – and eventually became ship-standard for the gross majority of its population. Photosynthetic traits, reducing caloric requirements by an average of half, were the most visible evidence of their augmentation, represented by whorls and stripes of light green, the patterning of which seemed to carry through families. Immune-system bolstering greatly aided their health and comfort in the ship’s closed system and lingering environmental hazards – though, alas, it detrimentally affected the utility of nanotechnology amongst those that accessed the genetic trait. These two were what most distinguished the modern Kuguzan. Of the three sub-races, they were the closest to human – comparatively bulky in size, especially in contrast to the Kirin, and more diverse than even the Alkonost in form and culture. It helped that they were the healthiest – the comparatively greater genetic abuse done on the Alkonost, and the Kirin’s tendency towards illnesses, left them as the most virile core of the ship’s population, though the modifications done to them were not without consequences to their numbers either. But the important thing? The important thing was that this could be lived with. The important thing was that hands were around to till the fields and seed the earth and run the filters and repair the ship. That the stores were filled with food. That none need starve. That all had purpose. The important thing was that they could all survive. “Uggghh…” groaned Mayuya, lying against a bench in town. “That was… too much food. Way too much. I don’t want to look at an apple pie ever again. ” “It was pretty good, wasn’t it?” said Spike, patting his chassis satisfactorily. “Especially those pies! The tins were a nice touch. Added a good bite.” Mayuya gingerly carried herself off the bench, an aching stomach threatening to bowl her over. “That was the last of it, right? All things accounted for? We talked to the mayor already, so…” Spike paused as he quickly processed the checklist. “Yep. That’s it!” “Good! Finally, some research!” They hurried to the library – at least, hurried as quickly as a full stomach could allow. “I only have so much time to do research, and the bandwidth down here is dismal! I need to track down everything I can on the Kaguyahime before another townie stalls us out with yet another-“ “SURPRIIIISSSEEE!” The din of a few dozen voices, streamers, and outward-drifting balloons nearly bowled Mayuya over. Her hand was grabbed and shaken enthusiastically by a blond-and-pink-haired blur of energy – probably human, if she would just stop oscillating Mayuya long enough for her to confirm. “Hi, I’m Pinkie! I saw you coming to town, remember? And since I knew everybody in town, and didn’t know you, that must mean you’re new! And that surprised me so I went ‘gasp,’ like this!” A loud, exaggerated intake of air acted as a punctuation. “And since you’re new, you probably don’t know anybody here, which means you must be lonely, and that made me sad, so I decided to throw a surprise party for you!” She finally stopped shaking Mayuya’s hand and beamed happily. “Were you surprised?” “V-very!” stammered Mayuya, gathering her wits back up from the torrent of words and motions. “Especially since this is a library, and you’re supposed to be quiet.” “Oh that’s silly,” waved off Pinkie, skipping happily towards the refreshments table with Mayuya’s hand held tightly in reluctant tow. She was decked out in all-pink pageantry – a wide, hooped skirt of curly pink lace and white streamers. Though the same race as Sylva, Pinkie was decidedly curvy – notably developed arms, and the wisps of flour under an unattended cheek and specks of batter under her nails suggested why this might be so, but her overall appearance was best described as “bubbly.” “What kind of party would it be if everybody were quiet? I mean, duh – booorriinng! So I invited everybody in town over and baked a bunch of cupcakes and, ooh, the local bar offered to service drinks! Here!” A muffin and cup of punch was shoved into Mayuya’s hands. “Try them! They’re sooooo good!” “I can’t – I just ate-“ Mayuya wilted under Pinkie’s big, expectant eyes. “Maybe a sip…” “Mm, I dunno,” said Sylva as she neared their table. “Tastes like regular cider to me. But what’s the surprise?” “Huh? Wait, I think I mixed the drinks up,” said Vaiva as she followed her. “Oh, hey, Pinkie! I see you met Mayu- er… Mayuya? Did you just drink…” Mayuya let out a loud, muffled whimper, her hands covering her mouth as she ran for the nearest bathroom. “Aww, look, she’s so happy to make friends she’s crying!” said Pinkie happily. “Vaiva, dear, you’re not pranking our guest of honor, are you?” asked Kichouko critically, gingerly wiping cupcake crumbs from her lips. “Aw come off of it. It was meant for Sylva,” said Vaiva. “Ah still don’t get it,” said Sylva, bemused. “What was the surprise? And what’s it got to do with strawberries?” The lights were dimmed low – a pristine row of orderly stars, illuminating just enough to see the roads by. It had been a long day – though the primary celebrations would be in Hopesville this year, as was the traditional rotation, it was politically nonviable to ignore the greater Spokes for such a small farming community. There was pageantry, pomp, fanfare… tiresome burdens of rule and stewardship, but nonetheless the grease of a smoothly operating society. And then there was the rest of her work. The only sound during the proceedings was the creaking of wheels, the steady march of heavy feet, and the hints of wingstrokes above. A procession of silver and gold armor, gleaming in the dusk, made its way through the winding trails towards Hopesville in near-silence, mostly out of respect for the traditions of the Solstice, but also out of deference to whom they guarded. The Princess was busy. Though her eyes were half-closed, and her posture still and meditative, she was hard at work. It has been… a very, very long time since the entirety of her consciousness was stored within the limitations of her physical self. And while it was certainly the vital, decision-making core, it would be better to say that the Princess herself wasn’t so much on the road between the 46th and 47th Spoke as she was… everywhere. Everywhere except, perhaps, the one place that most desired her attention. But perhaps it was time to take the young researcher off hold… Kilometers away, far from the dim afterglow of the Surface, and not at all appreciative of the faint, starlike glimmers of the vast lake before his residence, a young man tapped his foot impatiently, arms folded defensively as he waited leaning against a counter. “Doctor Bowen? The Princess will see you now,” piped in the high voice of his interface terminal. The wall by him lit up. “Your Majesty, I trust that you are doing well tonight,” said the researcher, bowing stiffly. “I am honored that you would make the time for me.” “Ah, Professor,” said the Princess’s gentle and calming voice. “It is a delight to hear from you; your research and diligence has been of great interest to me.” “Then you know why I have contacted you. The gravimetric reports…” “Indeed.” An awkward silence permeated the residence. “Then… if I may ask, what is it that you plan to do about it?” broached the researcher. “Only, it is drawing very, very close to the ship as we speak.” Silence held court. “…Princess?” There was an odd, cold shudder – but it wasn’t just him. Wall fixtures broke loose and drifted down. His diploma thudded against the floor. And the stars of the lake were gone. “Oh,” he said hoarsely as he picked himself back up. “I can probably guess how large it was now.” His interface flickered back on, and he began to read the writing on the walls… The party continues. It continued all the way out into the town square, through the bakery (to top off on confectionaries and drinks), and wound its way to the civic center. Already, there was a celebrity presence and guards in every corner of the interior, even a filming crew interspersed amongst the growing crowd. Mayuya was dragged unwillingly along, a datapad crammed with whatever random text she could feed it clutched protectively to her chest as if a charm to ward off negative attention – and, to her, any attention from anybody was a negative. She was sweating. From the discomfort of being confined in a closed room with a large crowd, from the exertions of the day, and from the effort of trying to focus on what little research she could do while the crowd swung into full gear. She nervously checked the time as notes were mentally, though literally, compiled – there wasn’t much time before the princess arrived. In fact, she thought with a gulp, she should be here already. On cue, the mayor of Hopesville took the stage. “Ladies and gentlemen!” began the stateswoman, poised proudly at her podium. “It is my great honor as mayor of Hopesville to announce the beginning of the thousandth Summer Solstice of the voyage of the Arcadia! On this day, the longest of our annual Cycle, let us celebrate the wisdom of our forebearers and partake in the fruits of our labor! And now, it is my privilege to introduce to you our kind and benevolent ruler, the steward of Arcadian harmony, her Royal Majesty…” The ship itself interrupted her. The sound of the crowd, already dimmed out of respect to the speechmaker, was silenced momentarily by a ubiquitous shudder in all directions. Far off in the distance, the low roar of storm-quelling vents from the great Spokes added a tremulous undercurrent to one girl’s desperate whimper. “Oh, my,” said the mayor as tensed fingers slowly let go of the podium. She readjusted her glasses and cleared her throat. “I’m… I’m sure that was nothing, right?” She glanced at the guards, though they looked just as dumbfounded as the citizenry. “A-anyhow! I am sure Her Majesty will have an explanation for this phenomenon. Let me just… um. Yes, please hold on a moment, everybody.” She paced quickly to the curtains enshrouding the upper mezzanine, slipping behind them… and slowly pacing backward as they billowed down, their uppermost edges decaying in a sizzle of ozone and burnt metals. Kichouko gasped loudly at the sight of her masterful work falling inexplicably apart, even the abstracted sunrise burnt to a smeared black by powers unknown. Upon the mezzanine stage stood a child clad in simple, pristine white; a blank, smiling face of porcelain staring ahead as if the crowd existed not. “Twinkle, twinkle, little star…” she quietly sang. “How I wonder what you are! Up above the world so high, like a diamond in the sky…” “S-somebody should get that kid away from all that soot,” mumbled Sylva nervously. “I-it’s not good for… her…” The oppressive tension only made others retreat further. She steeled her nerves and approached the stage. “H-hey, kid, c’mon. You’re creeping everybody out. Let’s go find your parents. What’s your name?” “Don’t get close to her!” yelled Mayuya, stalling Sylva in mid-stride. “Everybody, back away! Get out!” “When the blazing sun is gone… when he nothing shines upon… then you show your little light; twinkle, twinkle, all night long…” The little girl turned her head slowly down at Mayuya, her smile growing. Her eyes, quite literally, empty. “I-I know you,” said Mayuya, shuddering in fear and defiance. “Say it…” crawled out a sibilant whisper from all around them. “Remind them… who I am.” “The traitor princess. The…” Mayuya gulped. “The Lady of Decay. You were the captain of the lost cruiser Kaguyahime, and murderer of its crew and subordinate ships.” She summoned her courage and glared defiance at the smiling young girl. “You were called… Lunatic Sea.” Laughter. Ephemeral, demonic, soft, raucous, gentle, haughty – disembodied, from all corners, as the guards cautiously approached the mezzanine. Its volume concentrated onto the little girl… who wasn’t so little now, a column of black ichor raising her even as it slowly engulfed her from the feet up. “What did you do to the princess?” demanded Mayuya. “What are your demands?” “Oh, I think you know, little scholar,” said the girl’s voice, suddenly sharp, distinct and vicious. “Your precious princess now shares my fate, from so long ago. And now… now I am master and commander. And all shall bow before me.” “S-seize her!” ordered the mayor. “She knows where the Princess has gone to!” The guards charged the stage to increasingly maddened cackling – only to be thrown back, to a man, by an incandescent column of lightning. Mayuya was blinded and deafened by the blast, knocked off her feet like all others. When she came to, the sky was afire. The roof of the civic center shattered outward, and what was once gallant pageantry now cinders and the wailing of the injured. The Core was wreathed in a snake of flames. And, just like that, it extinguished itself. For the first time in a millennium, perfect darkness embraced the Arcadia. Mayuya despaired.