Negative Energy

Sky Boxes

When Matt woke up at seven sharp on Saturday morning, he felt strangely lethargic. He had grown accustomed to starting each day with a fresh quota of hopeful exuberance. He wondered if he was sick. No, his Nex reported that his bio-signs were optimal.

As he lay in bed, it slowly dawned on him that after working through the previous two weekends, this was his first real day off. What was he supposed to do with himself? On top of that, Ina would be coming by in a few hours to take him to Carnival. God, why had he let himself be talked into that? Sure, he wanted to spend time with her, but this?

Matt detested crowds and spectacles. He and Miriam had occasionally attended the theater or orchestra, but that was different; you took your assigned place in the dimly-lit auditorium while all the action unfolded on stage. Outdoor festivals were another matter: throngs of people bustling and jostling amid all the racket and stink. No structure, destination, or purpose—just pure pandemonium.

Maybe Ina wouldn't come. Over a week had passed since their cozy evening watching a movie on her couch. That was more than enough time for her to realize how much of a bore he was and find a more party-worthy companion.

After several minutes of wrestling with himself, Matt remembered that the antidote to anxiety was within easy reach. Using his Nex, he could instantly boost himself into a better frame of mind. Suddenly, he felt like an eager child waiting to go whitewater rafting with his Boy Scout troop. Brimming with excitement, he restlessly marked the passing of each second. Okay, maybe that was going a bit overboard. He tamped down his enthusiasm to a pleasant level of anticipation. Since he still had the morning to kill, he figured he would drop in on the Mesch. Energy never took a day off.

When Ina chimed at two PM sharp, he wasn't even thinking about the festival.

Matt had expected Ina to dress up, but what awaited him in the hallway didn't even look human: a giant green and yellow cocoon with flame-like tapers sprouting from its top and a train of oversized fronds pooling on the floor around it. Was Ina inside that thing?

The mystery was revealed when Ina gracefully rose from her tuck position on the floor to full standing height, the fiery tapers nearly touching the ceiling. Flowing from her arms, which were crossed mummy-style over her chest, were layers of sheer fabric that covered her from shoulder to thigh in seraphic modesty. Her face was artfully painted in bird of paradise colors: indigo eyelids, silver-green lips, and orange splashes on her cheeks and forehead. Her dusky irises were their natural color but somehow even more lustrous than usual. With a dramatic flourish, she swept her arms wide, causing magnificent wings of multi-hued petals to curtain out beneath them.

Matt's breath caught in his throat. Aside from the headdress and the leafy train that fanned from her hips, she was virtually naked. Vine-like straps formed a V between her legs, wrapped around the small of her back, and curled up over her ribs and breasts to finally loop around her neck in a green choker. A few loose tendrils straggled down her bare thighs. Tattooed across her navel was a brilliant orchid, the crease of her belly button forming part of the stamen.

Matt swallowed and tried to bring himself under control. His Nex had its work cut out for it.

Ina leaned forward to whisper in his ear, smelling of nectar, musk, and wildness. "Don't quell it. This is Carnival. Whatever happens today was meant to be." She pulled away and looked him closely up and down. "Except that." Scrunching up her nose, she handed him a small bag. "We need to get you into some proper festival attire."

The bag felt uncomfortably light. Matt retreated to his room to try on the outfit. Included were a pair of felt shoes, snug burgundy briefs, sheer bellbottom pants, and a sort of hybrid cape-vest that fit awkwardly over his shirt. Having learned from the last time, he figured the shirt had to go. Sure enough, the vest hung naturally on his bare shoulders. She had got all his sizes right. When he looked in the mirror, he was prepared to see something utterly ridiculous, but the effect was surprisingly harmonious. The sheer fabric flowed like silk over his trim, youthful physique. Somehow, he managed to look both floral and swashbuckling.