the magnificent crowns of foliage were a benign blue. The grass in which I lay supine was soft, its silky seed heads bowing tokenistically before a slight breeze. The combination of scents was redolent with impressions of health and reassurance. But
The snake was dangling from a supple bough of a bush that sprouted beside me. It was not a big snake no longer than my forearm, and no thicker than my thumb nor was it decked out in warning coloration, being mostly green with streaks of brown; nor was it displaying its fangs in a threatening manner. It was, however, unmistakably a snake.
If there is code written into human meatware that responds to the scents of a forest, there is also a code that commands us to be wary of snakes, even when we know that we are characters in a fairy tale perhaps, given the nature of human folklore, especially when we know that we are characters in a fairy tale.
I was in no hurry to move. Breathing was luxury enough, and I could breathe perfectly well without moving. I knew that my body, wherever it was held, must be breathing too, so breathing seemed to be a trustworthy reality: a connection with the truth that lay beyond the fairy tale, temporarily unreachable.
I looked at the snake, and it looked back at me.
Having no reason to take it for granted that the snake couldnt speak, I was tempted to say hello, but I didnt. I would have felt ridiculous. I knew that I would have to move eventually, but I was in no hurry. I had just come from a place in which I had been imprisoned as completely as it had ever been possible for any organic entity to be imprisoned, and the mere conviction that I could move if I needed to was sufficient for the time being. I knew that it wouldnt be actual movement, because my real body was securely pupated in a chrysalis, but I knew that I wouldnt be able to tell the difference.
I didnt mind this particular impasse; it had a welcome hint of luxury about it.
I would have moved eventually, but the world got tired of waiting for me.
Its not poisonous, said a male voice. Youre quite safe.
For the time being, I was content to turn my head and look at the speaker.
I was half-expecting an elf, or something weirder, but the speaker appeared to be an ordinary human being. It was difficult to triangulate from the angle at which I was lying but I guessed that he was about my height, with a slightly fairer complexion but noticeably darker hair. He was dressed in a one-piece that was smart in the technological sense without being smart in the fashion sense, decorated in shades of green and brown that were not so very different from the snakes. I figured that was probably symbolism. He also had a wide-brimmed hat, which probably wasnt. He looked authentically young even younger than Davida Berenike Columella, if one were to judge by his expression alone.
He offered me a hand and I took it. He helped me up. His grip felt reassuringly human too, so I naturally leapt to the conclusion that he was not human at all. I looked down at my own costume, and found that it was sea-blue with silver trimmings. It felt good from the inside and it looked good on the outside. It wasnt real, of course, so it wasnt authentically smart in any but the fashionable sense. On the other hand, I figured that the IT I seemed to be outside of really might have been doing sterling work inside my actual flesh, wherever that actual flesh might be cocooned.
I could feel the breeze on my cheeks, and I could taste the moisture in the air. It would have been subtly insulting to start feeling the back of my neck and scratching under my armpits, so I contented myself with touching the bridge of my nose. There was a very faint ridge as if the cartilage had been fractured a long time ago, and left awkwardly askew just long enough for the repair nanotech to put it back together in a slightly imperfect fashion.
The snake had slithered quietly away into the depths of the bush, but I knew it was still there. More symbolism, I figured.
Very neat, I said. This is good work. All of it. I waved my right arm to indicate the forest floor and the canopy, and the bright blue vault of Heaven. This is really good work and I speak as someone who was once in the business, in a primitive way. Its yours, I suppose?
I wish, he said, lightly. Im just a visitor, like you. Youll get to meet the maker eventually but she has her own way of doing things, and theres a great deal she wants you to see beforehand. Im Rocambole, by the way. We have spoken before, but I wasnt admitting to who I am back then. Im your friend, although I wont blame you for not taking my word for it.
The name rang a very faint bell, but I couldnt place it. Even a connoisseur
has his limits. If Id had a wristset or a palmpiece Id have looked it up unobtrusively, but I didnt. Madoc Tamlin, I reciprocated, but couldnt help adding: But I suppose you know that.
Oh yes, he said. As I said, weve spoken before.
He seemed to be making a point of that, so I tried to figure it out.