Malika sits with her feet dangling off the edge of a wooden platform, perched high in the canopy of the Forest in the Sky.
She is beginning to grow accustomed to the ominous mood of the Forest at dusk, the smell of pine and the creaking moans of the towering Redwood trees that comprise the eastern border of the Starling Territory.
Her new home.
It’s beautiful in its way she supposes.
The sunset casts a melancholy glow over the vast metropolis sprawling across the Valley floor a mile below, intensified by the chill mist floating down from the mountains that loom above the horizon.
Or perhaps it just seems melancholy to her.
It all looks so small and insignificant from up here, she thinks. The Advanced Metropolis and its tall phallic buildings poking up above the clouds, buzzing with their supposedly advanced technologies.
Her father used to always say that the technologies used in the Federation were primitive compared to what was truly possible.
He would pluck a flower off a tree, waive it in her face and exclaim, “Look how marvelous it is! The beauty of it — the patterns — it’s mindblowing. Think of the power of nature. We will never be able to match such complexity with our man-made inventions. Life is the greatest of all technologies.”
“It’s as if he always knew I belonged up here,” says Malika softly. “He knew so much, predicted so much. Why couldn’t he have predicted his own disappearance?”
Water wells up suddenly in her eyes, and she clenches her fists and grinds her teeth, but she can’t stop them from coming. The tears pour down her cheeks.
Her chest tightens and her breathing grows strained, telltale signs of an impending panic attack. She sighs and whispers, “launch Bionic App Store.”
A transparent screen materializes in the air in front of her. Dancing on the screen is a holographic menu featuring the week’s Most Popular bionic apps. At the top of the list is an app called Commune.
“Search store,” she says, ignoring the featured product. She knows what she needs. “Find Fockitall.”
A moving hologram of a beefy leather-clad man on an air-bike pops onto her screen. The man jeers and makes a lewd gesture with his left hand, while the words Fockitall, developed by MegaCorp float beneath him.
Malika hesitates, wondering whether she really needs the app again. Her mom told her to stop app-doping so much.
The beefy man revs his engine, as if goading her on.
Malika blinks the tears out of her eyes. “If Mom really cared,” she says softly, “she would have come to visit by now. She has no room to talk anyway — she just sits around all day, doping herself into oblivion.”
“Install!” says Malika all of a sudden, and in that instant, her tears dry up, her breathing clears and the aching in her chest fades away.
She looks down on the Metropolis again and watches in silence as the so-called Advanced People scuttle about like ants in their flying cars, oblivious to the danger surrounding them — the constant threat to their lives kept at bay by the People in the Sky.
Her people, the Starlings.
A hawk circling the skyline catches her eye, and she watches as it rides up on a gust of air and climbs toward the Star Dome. As it flies closer, the bird’s wingspan grows in stature, and Malika realizes that this is no hawk at all, but a sentinel returning from a Starling mission.
Malika sees the sentinel swoop gracefully down onto the landing platform of the First Tree and stand to his full height, a tall handsome boy with sandy blonde hair.
Her cheeks grow flush when she sees his face.
It’s Dax, the boy who spoke to her in the dining den last month. The older Starlings never speak to her, or even seem to know she’s alive, but he noticed her. He even smiled and said hello, and asked if she wanted to join them for dinner that night.
But by the time dinner came around, he had already left.
Malika saw him momentarily, conversing in hushed tones with Master Valmiki at the head table. Then Master Daedalus pulled him aside, and they snuck away together.
This is the first Malika has seen of Dax since. He must have been sent on a mission.
Dax peels off his bionic wings and walks hurriedly into the Dome. A bell clangs in the distance as he steps inside.
“Rrrather disquieting. Sentinel returrrns alone.”
Malika jumps. She thought she heard someone speak, but it must have been her imagination. She looks behind at the giant Redwood tree, which supports the platform on which she’s sitting. A small door is carved into the tree trunk, and she thought perhaps someone else came onto the platform to watch the sunset as well, but there’s no one there. She’s alone.
It’s just Malika on the platform and the trees surrounding her, their august branches swaying gently in the misty breeze.
Trees don’t talk, Malika reminds herself, not even in the Enchanted Starling Forest. Although she has always wondered why they refer to the Forest as being enchanted.
“Quorrum is called.”
She jumps again. Someone is definitely there. She looks up and peers into the gnarled branches towering above her and gasps.
Two golden eyes are staring down at her from the nearest branch, shining like a pair of sparkling stars in a moonless sky. She rubs her eyes and opens them again.
The starry lights are still there, floating amidst the branches, framed by a green blanket of leaves.
Then she notices a furry face surrounding the eyes, with thick golden fur dashed with black spots and tall whiskers and large, perky ears lined with black tufts of fuzz, and a stubby tail swishing back and forth with arrogant airs. It’s a bobcat!