Harry is reborn as a girl in a place of war and steel.
War comes. The nomad Utangi want the Arjanti’s lands and women. The Sirdash forest tribes simply want all Arjanti dead. Reborn in the body of dead girl Muaima, Harry must find friends and allies if is to save himself and his new tribe. Good thing an ancient Greek philosopher is there to lend a hand.
His glass of golden beer stood on a cracked plastic counter with imitation marble veins, while vague golden oldies played softly in the background.
Then it turned out that he wasn’t in a normal bar, but in a dollhouse. It was a shadowy and dusty dollhouse, with shadowy and dusty plastic furniture. Two plastic dolls of women sat immobile in the kitchen. A plastic pantry stood with its door open and small plastic pies waited for someone to turn a gay plastic switch.
The perspective subtly shifted, and Harry stopped being a disembodied observer—he folded into himself, like a cloud compressing into a lump of solid matter, and was now looking out of the smoking man’s eyes.
Bleak light flowed from the window. Outside the dollhouse a huge cat stalked. Its green eyes glowed like stoplights. Harry heard honking and smelled exhaust gasses. It wasn’t really a giant cat—it was a bus passing below his flat’s window.
Harry was dreaming.
Harry dreamt of closing the window of his dollhouse flat, and sitting down on the pink, plastic couch to watch some TV. The screen of the light green box lit up and a man’s face with a white beard appeared on the screen. He looked into Harry’s eyes.
Suddenly Harry remembered that he was asleep.
“You are asleep, yes!” said the man, watching him from the TV’s screen. “You have gone asleep under the Shogu tree to ask for my advice.”