The Bird and The Dragon
The Woman from the Dark Side of the Planet: Part 1

04-332 Haven

A bald man was lying on the sofa eyes tightly shut. He prayed that the footsteps approaching in the corridor were not targeting him. The door opening nullified his hope and the rhythmic clicks from the high heels punctuating irritated words forced the man to open his grey-blue eyes.

“Wake up Jonathan. Your presence is required and by the touch of the ash try to present yourself as a seriously…”

The steps and the words stopped simultaneously when the speaker appeared. Miss Ohanu was in make-up, wearing a dress with oversized sleeves, decorated with wavering lines and pictures of flowers. Her hairdo was adorned with three feathers and she carried a decorative fan on her manicured hand. The self-proclaimed center of the entertainment business in Haven’s outer city glared at her pet gangster eyes full of barely contained fury but hid the temper suddenly behind a cloud of determination.

A woman standing a head taller than her hostess stepped behind Ohanu. The tall woman was wearing a simple dark green suit with trousers. She was bald, her features were angular and the tattoos on her scalp reached her neck and temples.

Jonathan Byrd or the Bird, as he was often called, was 25 years old, blonde, and having a hangover. A straight nose and high cheekbones cast an illusion of sharpness on his tired face. Jonathan was wearing trousers, but he had no socks. His pale yellow shirt with a fishbone pattern was open showing a body with sinewy muscles. There was lipstick on his collar. Jonathan dropped his feet to the floor and rose with a movement that seemed more relaxed than it felt.

“Good morning, my mistress, how may I be of service?” Jonathan’s throat was parched making his voice coarse. Lamplight streaming to the room highlighted the blonde growth on his scalp and chin. The dawn would be in three days when Watergate orbited in the dayside of Abyss.

“Excuse me, navigator Thomms, he is still a young one,” Ohanu said, and the tall woman smiled broadly keeping her mismatched eyes - a grey and a brown one - in Jonathan. She seemed to be making an evaluation.

“Good morning, mister Byrd. A hard night, I assume.” The tall woman said.

“It was a long one.” Jonathan had a hunch that ‘the navigator’ did not imply to a steersman of some minor boat. The tall woman looked hard, her skin had the spotty, bleached look, and she had the stature of a woman who had taken a good look straight into the world’s rotten soul. Thomms was a navigator from the black seas and the red twilight; a creature tested by shipwrecks, ghosts, and illnesses that dwelled in the reefs. She carried her travels tattooed on her skin as was the habit on the planet’s dark side.

“I can see that,” the navigator continued smiling and sat on a chair decorated with blue embroidery. She directed her words to Ohanu. “He might fit in the role.”

“I recognize the raw talent when I see it,” Ohanu said glaring at Jonathan again. “Now you will do exactly what madam navigator tells you to do. Or I will tell your father.”

Jonathan grimaced, mentioning his dad was a hit under the belt as Ohanu very well knew. Yes, Ikanji was his father and Jonathan was born named Kvenrei. He had taken the first chance to travel south just to get as far as possible from his father and brother Patrik, who was too enthusiastic about politics.

Meeting with Ohanu had been a coincidence, but already on the very first meeting the woman had insisted Jonathan stand beside a portrait of Ikanji and had declared striking similarity. Jonathan kept his head shaven to avoid looking like his father. He would have grown a beard, but his facial hair was scattered and weak in growth. Jonathan didn’t want to be in debt for any country or bloodline. He didn’t want to try and fail as a strategej or a political player. Jonathan wanted to enjoy his own life without the responsibilities set by his relatives.

“Can you pretend to be a woman, Jonathan?” the navigator asked. “Walk here and sit down, please.”

Jonathan shrugged nonchalantly. The morning was taking a curious turn, but he didn’t mind. He tilted his head, smiled, and swung his hips while walking towards the navigator.

“Do you manage to discuss with ladies?”

“Sure,” Jonathan said in a surprisingly feminine voice.

“And you can do something about your looks?”

The bald man sat in the chair with a chuckle elegantly crossing his bare ankles. “Of course I can, don’t be silly. A wig and some make-up will work wonders. Let’s add some filling and maybe a high collar to hide my Adam’s apple.”

“The Bird will not be a beauty, but he has the makings of a reasonably good-looking middle-aged lady,” Ohanu said.

“Good enough for my company,” the navigator smiled: “What about the other thing? You seem to be of the northern breed, the Bird. What can you do?”

“What you would like me to do, mistress navigator?” Jonathan answered, his voice full of suggestion.

“A good question, boy,” the navigator said missing the connotations altogether. “There is a captain who has a grudge against me. He has invited me for a visit together with some twenty others. He will present an invention and I am curious to see it.”

The small hints in the details of the navigator’s clothing and speech connected in Jonathan’s head. This was not some boat company representative he was talking with, Thomms was an aerial navigator. This put her in the topmost category regarding money, power, and enemies.

“I feel threatened. I can handle some ordinary violence, but I need an extra set of eyes, a hidden weapon, and this is where you come into play. I want you to prance among the captains and their officers, to keep your eyes open and if needed, escort me out alive. Are you up to that task?”

“I can fight,” Jonathan dropped his feminine show.

“He is not exaggerating. The Bird has been schooled, although he doesn’t tell where. However, he sadly missed the lessons about self-discipline and early mornings,” Ohanu said.

“I can live with that. We have a deal.”

“Affirmative,” Ohanu answered without asking Jonathan’s opinion. “You can use him. I’ll inform the old snake.” The snake was Viper, a crime lord whom Jonathan served. Viper and Ohanu were long-time friends, and he would not object as long as he got his share from the profits.

“Well, Jonathan. I am Navigator Bladewater Thomms, officer to Captain Samuel DeLangre. I serve the Eastern Trading Union on the patrol ship Odysseia.”

“Odysseia was a lover to Major Myers, born in Haven. She was a pretty girl,” Ohanu said but the navigator’s blank face told that any rumors about her love life were meaningless to her.

“The reception will be in Captain Veringe’s house in four days. On Thursday.”

Jonathan nodded. He had no clue about sky captains. People like Captain Veringe were high above the people with whom Jonathan associated. The navigator did not seem to expect questions and Jonathan was too hungover to ask anything clever.

“I’ll meet you at five by the metal company arch.” The navigator named a well-known location and Jonathan nodded again. “I want you to be…what would be believable?” Thomms directed her question to Ohanu.

Ohanu looked first at Jonathan and then at the navigator. “Do you want to use your reputation?”

Thomms frowned. “I have no idea what you are implying, miss Ohanu. I was not born here, and I replace your play with hidden meanings confusing.”

“Maybe if I’ll explain. I trust you are not offended…”

“You have my word.”

“Navigator, you are known to associate with people far below your class and you do it very openly.”

“Ohanu, be straight about it. I give my time to the people I consider interesting. I am too old to pretend.”

“As you say. The rumor says that you sleep with these acquittances. Do you want to strengthen the rumor with Jonathan?”

The navigator laughed. It was a dry, but honest laughter. “I have lived over sixty years and buried two husbands in the sea. I can read the wind and the weather unlike any of the people born on the gentle seas and…and they gossip about my sex life.” Thomms swiped her eyes. “It is an excellent rumor, let’s keep it alive. It gives this young man a free rein as the respectable people avoid him.”

Jonathan could read Ohanu so well that her disbelief was evident. Miss Ohanu lived for the stories and used rumors as valuable resources.

“Dear Thomms,” Ohanu set her hand on the navigator’s shoulder. “I am twice your age, and this city is still drooling after gossip about my relationships.”

“Is it true then, that you were here when the ainadu appeared?” the navigator asked. Jonathan straightened his posture, this was mildly interesting.

“Trying to ask my age and even you, Jonathan!” Ohanu smiled like a girl. “Yes, I was there, and I was sixteen.”

“The sea has been gentle for you.” The navigator said. Ohanu’s aging process had stopped early and almost perfectly. Her years showed only on the thinness of her face or maybe she covered the changes with makeup. Only a few were so lucky, compared to Ohanu the navigator looked ancient and Jonathan avoided thinking about his aging.

Unlike the rest of the planet’s population, the ainadu didn’t possess the genetic mechanism to slow the body’s natural aging process. Still, Jonathan’s father, who was a few years older than Ohanu, seemed ageless. Of course, it was of his own doing but Jonathan was afraid that the same would happen to him; that he was not like the others: that the work his father had done with his body had been fruitful. Sometimes Jonathan imagined feeling the blood flowing along his bones. Once he had seen the surface of his shinbone; it was carved full of matrixes that fed on his blood. He still had nightmares about it.

“Yes, I have been lucky. But I’ll see if Jonathan fits your style. Do you have other requirements?” Ohanu was saying.

“Don’t take any illegal items or weapons with you.”

“Do you need weapons?” Ohanu asked.

“No,” Jonathan said.

“No, he needs no weapons,” Ohanu repeated, and Jonathan could almost hear her thinking about what had happened between him, an armed intruder and a napkin.

On the agreed evening Jonathan walked beside the navigator towards Captain Veringe’s doors. With heels, Jonathan was almost as tall as the navigator and the flower perfecting the brown wig raised to the top of her bald head. Lis and Jadeia had helped him to dress and the two had enjoyed themselves while applying the makeup and giving him lots of tips. Jonathan -now Joanna- was prettier than he had thought he would be.

The embroidered black jacket hid the shape of Jonathan’s shoulders, and its lacing faked him a waist. A dark blue skirt reached down to his ankles. The laced shoes originated in the theatre’s storage, and they had been painted to suit the skirt’s color. Jonathan had looked at himself in the mirror and sent himself a kiss.

This role didn’t threaten his confidence, and the navigator seemed to him to be a reasonable person. Jonathan did not feel like playing an involuntary part in Thomm’s phantasies was on tonight’s schedule. It was almost the opposite; the tattooed woman was oddly sincere and straight-spoken like she was not hiding anything.

The way to Captain Veringe’s house had strengthened Jonathan’s impression of the navigator. Her opinions seemed honest, and she had surprised Jonathan with her knowledge of poetry. Poetry was not considered fashionable among the upper classes, but Thomms had mentioned many of the same pieces Jonathan had liked.

The Veringe house was in the better part of the city, on an avenue on the seaside hills. The air was clearer than in the lower reaches and kept breathable even when the reefs were flowering.

A servant opened the door and led the navigator and Jonathan inside. Nothing changed in Thomms’ bearing or face when they stepped inside. Jonathan had looked closely but hadn’t seen a mask or a role taking over. The navigator carried on their discussion like poetry was the most natural thing in the world. Jonathan noticed that he liked this refreshing attitude.

They were stopped by a man wearing the uniform of the Ronsilde Trading Company to which Captain Veringe belonged.

“This way navigator, please. We check the guests just in case, of course, you understand.” The man was determined and looked like a career soldier who did not care if the guests understood the necessity of the check.

“Of course,” Thomms said: “This is unusual, isn’t it? Are you expecting trouble?”

The soldier patted the navigator in a way that showed his experience, and indifference to the body underneath. “Captain’s orders. We are ensuring the visitors’ safety.”

Soon Thomms was leading Jonathan inside the apartment. Jonathan’s check had been less thorough. “Was this a special welcome gesture just for you?” he whispered to the navigator.

“It is possible. Veringe has grown suspicious. They say that someone plans to steal his invention.”

“The one he is planning to present tonight?”

“I think so. He has given hints about a breakthrough in his research and a leap towards the stars.”

“Does anyone know what it is all about?”

“There was something about utilizing ainadu technology. As I mentioned, I am curious to see it.”