SOLARIS: ageing in reverse

‘There weren’t always dragons in the valley,’ it was the Ministers morose voice, Lana recognised it as it cut like an uncanny knife through the blue cloud misting her lens. As she climbed the upper steps she had met the vision of a clotting mist absolving itself in the archway beyond, it seemed to throb to some dark alien pulse but as it scattered, her lenses relaxed on a figure. Lana’s foetus gaze was mesmerised as smoke swallowed the Ministers body like an enormous living tulle, a kind of chrysalis distorting her vision of his angles. She was delighted.

‘You’re just 8 days old, in consciousness,’ her Commander had said yesterday, and it came back to her now. But I was 21 every day before 8 days ago, in my human body.

It was with the passing wind that she received detail and accuracy: the second man’s head smearing into visibility. And then she couldn’t unsee it, the Alchemist standing perfectly parallel to the Minister, should-to-shoulder smoking up a dream: it was Denali. Unaccountable as they vanished into the blue plume. Because from faraway two figures could easily look like one, but there were definitely two of them and Lana confided to herself, didn’t they stand out vividly under the archway in Denali’s blue lotus haze? A half smile shrank across her face. Just what was Denali playing at. They hadn’t quite noticed her yet, although with Denali it was hard to tell. Lana had been anything but graceful about the way that she had staggered up the enormous staircase on her way up here. But the two of them remained as they were, seemingly absorbed in their conversation.

She paused to console herself in the strange beauty of the atmosphere. The place was fit for Angels to walk not that any Angel had walked here besides herself. They flew or bound skyward with anti-gravity. Not that she qualified as one yet.

‘You are Cupid, act like it,’ another facet of her tutors endless chides slapped her for a hundredth time that day. But what did they even mean? What was Cupid? Just beyond the two figures was the atrium with its guise of Eden; pools shimmering like those artificial earrings she had seen glitter on Politicians back when she had stepped off the express way further in-land. Sometimes rulers wore emeralds or pink diamonds. But the experience had stood out to her, and not in an entirely material way. An incessant pressing language presenting the temptation of running her finger; to tuck whisps of hair behind ears and earn the secret knowledge those earrings represented. But this would be too far out of her Commanders amusement, 9 days old or no and she was already collateral damage on the kingdom’s behalf. From the surrounding countryside the Dark-Mare came trotting through the Atriums chrysanthemums, it was so eerie even in broad daylight. They were pitch black horses gifted from a distant kingdom with some kind of genetic modification. And from time to time one of the Royals would swing into the stirrups to come charging through the flower fields, pixels wasting behind him. Lana would lay flat against a sleeping Dark-mare to avoid detection. Sometimes there was an entire cornfield chase between two or more. It was never between women, she flicked through her thoughts; the feminine principle was to receive masculine energy on this planet. It hadn’t taken much observation to learn this was the way of courting processes and her Commander had warned her to take extra consideration of these things.

‘If I make it, make me the least violent Angel.

‘Depends on what you mean by violent’

‘Killing- I don’t want to kill anyone, not directly anyway.’

‘How virtuous/noble of you… Then you’ll be Cupid.

‘And what does that involve?’

‘Oh its deeply political, between kingdoms alike.’

The air was too thin up here; Lana thought of the sun smiling the other way, giving Eden the cold dimension, it always succumbed to. Nobody played fair that had any real power, some streak of rebellion from her previous life had followed her. Only she had to work its transparency. It took a huge staircase of some institutionalised, nostalgic white jade just to climb up here. Unless you had the status to disobey tradition. The staircase was wide, slim stepped, with platforms where on a sunny day the light bounced hard with its full hatred. Lana could enjoy the solar-charging but she was a rare case after all. Somehow the leaders didn’t mind pulling the figures to ornate the entire city with this white jade. the architects worshipping that very same sentimentality that if this entire world was the go underwater again, at least it would look the part. And a visiting oligarch could view the Princesses on elegant white runway panels, the modistes businesses could flourish and fashion could say what was really on everyone’s minds. As for the grandness of the staircase one could acknowledge the basic military defence but that became utterly listless when from the Sky-world, your opponent came from above. It was practically an altar. The idea was chilling . But it was true that beauty had its own purpose. Just hours ago she had lain with the Dark-mare, chewed the chrysanthemums, all due to her carefully altered dress. Having spent a few days of accumulated funds she had paid for something simple and bespoke that would allow the horses to bond with her. ‘I heard a rumour that the Dark-mare are soothed by these colours,’ and the tailor had nodded, combining them into her skirt. The funds were supposed to go towards her food and dietary requirements and so the twins and her had committed minor crimes of jumping into the brambles for anything delicious that grew from the earth. April was crouched in the lilies and faraway gardens, oranges and bergamots shoved down tops, but this got trickier and trickier to hide.

Her focus settled on the two figures again, Denali and the Minister. Lana could feel their conversation eclipse as the minister considered her for the first time. Lana froze in her position. He was holding a sand timer, its steady stream was just beginning to ebb out. Though the two figures spoke quietly though clips of conversation scattered without her having to engage any specialised auditory receptors. And as she gazed at the archways that surrounded her, she realised that was the point. What was it they said? ‘There are no secrets, nor Angels in the Court of Conscience.’ There can’t have been more than five steps between her and her object. Now Denali’s head came into visibility behind and almost violent, distress of blue, blue smoke. He reached into his pocket for a handkerchief as the coughing progressively worsened. The minister unfazed, retracted his shield and it collapsed like a gauze around their perimeter.

She saw their eyes drop to her exposed navel under the cropped blouse to the fixed sun emblem crowning where her belly button would have been. It said that she was exclusive property of Solaris. Lana scowled looked at the ground just in time to see a caterpillar precariously positioned- and completely overreacted.

‘So your body hasn’t been completely calibrated yet,’ the Minster asked, as both men hauled her to her feet, once they had recovered her from the bottom of the marble staircase. After she had recovered from the shock, she made herself speak, it had been a very long way to fall, even for an Angel. From here she couldn’t even see the courts pillars after it taken her the entire morning of balancing on a blade to coordinate her way up those ridiculous steps., she knew she was doing a bad job of suppressing her frustration and then there was the infernal sensory overload besting her.

‘I’m a criminal, remember- get off me- darling,’ she brushed them aside in an attempt to assert some kind of dominance back over this body. The programming was very persistent, at ‘darling,’ she had felt her lips move.

The Minister recoiled as if he had been smacked, then he began smiling, ‘it’s an impressive body,’ he looked at her solidly up and down. Lana tried not to seem embarrassed, ‘conduct a test, it’s probably defect and then Denali, keep this child out of my sight- don’t they have tutors for these things,’ he went on muttering.

‘Minister, Denali dropped his head, in acknowledgement as the minister turned, his cape glittering like live fire signalling his move of absence.

… Under Solaris, the law gives you priority, - Denali

Once they were out of listening distance, Denali put a finger to his lips, conspiratorial. He reached into his jacket. This was the second time he had done it, another handkerchief. He dropped it open to reveal that caterpillar. The one that to avoid killing had her cost her all balance.

‘Oh,’ it wasn’t what she had expected.

‘Its yours now,’

‘Why would I want it?’

‘I’m just saying, you fell down the stairs to save-‘

‘An accident, nothing more, nothing less.’

Denali gave her a measuring glance. ‘Solaris, he said and paused, ‘Solaris is about the preservation of the natural world. Lana let out a breathy laugh, rolling her large eyes at him, gruesomely.

‘Ironic, when I’m in an artificial body.’

‘And yet- ..’ he hesitated ‘you’re alive.’ He says it gently to draw attention to what he doesn’t say, the stabbing detail poised at the very centre of her being. If Solaris was the centre of this universe, then this fundamental fact was her sun. It made and broke her very being. It started and ended her day. She owed it her life but Lana hadn’t learnt how to articulate herself around it. In the back of her mind, past the valley of dragons were the Reapers swarming at her human body as it bled out.

Your very intentional irrational death his eyes said, your miracle of life through preserved consciousness’.

Why did I choose death for myself? What happened in my previous life. And why did Solaris choose me?

All of these questions and no way for answers yet.

‘Do you work for them?’ she tried to shift the topic, ‘Solaris’.

‘Yes and no,’ he shrugged, diplomatic as always, and he folded the creature away back into his pocket.

‘Solaris’ is a natural life index submerged in law... at least in this kingdom,’ Lana drawled, ‘how profound’ she taunted, allowing him to pass his terrible judgement across her.

He nodded, his hair catching the light as if he had some kind of halo.

‘Can I ask, why did you runaway?’~

Lana leant close to him; she paused and mentally scanned every fibre of her body and then his. Proxemics was still tricky. Collapsing her knee, her hair fell over her face and she was propelled forwards. It took time to handle her balance. Wasn’t this how the physiotherapists taught her, to take her time? To feel the energy in the world from each touch to the planets floor. She was very close to Denali and he sat very still. With some difficulty she reached past his chest, into his jacket to find and grasp the flimsy handkerchief.

‘My caterpillar,’ she mused and then exhaled, beginning to draw it out, slower than comfortable. It took one mistake and her clumsy strength would mark her first kill. Just one inch and then another…

Perfect life before you perfect death. She had failed at death hadn’t she.

‘Come on,’ she gasped, forcing her hand to unclench before life expired. Lana rotated and backed onto her knees sitting down, her arm still oddly extended in the space between them. Her forearm made its arc back to her naval, she breathed, 1… 2… 3… It was with shaky fingers she retrieved her hand and began to unfurl the cloth handkerchief, one corner at a time. ‘I wanted…’ Lana mumbled, trying to answer his question, she could feel the caterpillar’s tiny heart beating in her palm. The shock of falling seemed distant now. Yes, her receptors definitely picked up a pulse.

‘I wanted to see if I could run at all,’ she admitted, ‘I wanted to really try this body out, I wanted to not feel like a corpse.’

Denali smiled now, and she wondered about their interactions in her previous body. But this was probably wrong too. I like that you are here with me right now. She thought but didn’t say.

Only 8 days old- her Commander had said.

‘Joy?’ she asked out loud attempting the mental broadcast, finally seeking the connection between herself and her Commander. ‘Joy,’ Lana said again, pushing through a kaleidoscope of thought. In her mind’s eye, she experienced her Commander accepting the broadcast. It occurred to her now there might not be a response, and this admission filled her with a kind of anxiety.

‘Lana. Is that you? Where are you Lana?’ it was Joy in her mind, Joys digital voice encompassing her thoughts. Joy was with her now, they were broadcasting telepathically.

‘Commander… ‘Lana began, as Denali looked straight at her.