Elysium: Book Six of The Liminality

Chapter 37: Connections

We skim the edge of the massif, passing over the ruins of Old Frelsi. The  intact portions have been re-occupied in earnest, with a lot more new buildings than I saw the last time I was here. People have filled in some of the gaping ravines left in the aftermath of the root quakes and are building over the top of it.

As we glide over the toppled remains of the Sanctuary's former towers, I'm wondering what the chances are that this strand is taking us straight to Mom? I mean, this is where she used to stay. What are the odds that we would strike gold on the first shot?

But my hopes dim a bit when Zeke keeps zooming past the old city and out over the old gorge that separates the twin plateaus of the massif. From our rate of descent, we are clearly making a landing in New Frelsi—a misnomer if there ever was one because there were ruins on this site long before the Old Frelsi had become ruined in the war with Penult.

The builders and restorers here have been doing a bang-up job of city planning here with its bullseye pattern of spokes and hubs and an amazing central district with classic architecture from all corners of the earth plus some whimsical and preposterous building shapes that would have been impossible with normal construction techniques. I'm thinking it will be such a shame to see all of this get torn apart by whatever monstrosity is currently inflicting its will on Penult.

Dad stands pressed up against one of Zeke's more transparent petals, admiring the view.

"That's a goddamn city down there," he says.

"Yup."

"You been there?"

"Oh yeah. Bunch of times."

As we land in the central plaza which seems to double as a kind of airport for bugs, I'm still holding out hope that Zeke is bringing us straight to Mom. She could have moved here to be closer to the action. A lot of former Frelsians stayed here now.

Zeke settles down in a quiet spot well away from the main concentration of tethered beetles and flies, close to the edge of a marketplace that encircles the entire plaza.

Dad is pressed against a raised petal, studying the crowd milling about the stands. People seem calm and jovial. The mood is that of a Sunday afternoon at a farmer's market. These people are not acting like their afterlife is about to end.

"Do you see any sign of your mother?"

"Nope. Not yet."

As Zeke lowers his petals, Dad slips out and charges out towards the market stalls, searching frantically.

"Dad, take it easy. I'm not sure she's even here. That strand might not have been hers."

But who did it belong to? It had to be someone I know well. I'm searching the crowd myself looking for a familiar face.

There's a woman standing with her back turned to me, at a stall selling hand-crocheted doilies. Not woven. Crocheted. Some people here still have a fetish for hand-crafted stuff. She's wearing a blue dress which contrasts nicely with the ginger curls that stray from the neat bun pinned up behind her head. I'm wondering why I'm staring at this person when she turns slightly and I realize who I'm looking at.

"Lille!"

I charge off, but don't make it two strides when a lanky man in a bowler hat cuts me off and seizes me.

It's Bern! He's all dolled up with a waxed mustache and a waistcoat, looking like someone who just stepped off the set of an Ivory and Merchant movie. Lille spots us and comes trotting over, her face lit up with glee, and she joins in on the scrum.

"Unbelievable," she says. "I wasn't sure we'd ever see you again. I thought you were off gallivanting in the higher realms."

"Yeah, well. Not really."