Elemorts

Chapter XVI - Beralaxon

Planet Ornebule

Beralaxon Ducelest strode through the tables, ignoring the heads being turned his way. Usually, he would relish the attention being paid to him by the patrons of Ambros Restaurant, but today, his mind was focused on something far more important... and disturbing.

Still, even today, he hadn't compromised on putting up a spectacle of his appearance. He had a rectangular face with black hair that he almost always styled in spikes and bright-blue eyes. Today, he wore a designer, turquoise dress shirt with white pinstripes, white dress pants, and black monk straps. Lastly, he sported his vintage, silver, Zapstromiss watch with a turquoise dial.

Beralaxon looked around the hall and at the mezzanine levels, analyzing the customers. Is he already here, watching me as I walk by? he wondered.

The spacious restaurant was abuzz with the droning chatter of some half a hundred patrons and the clinking of silverware superimposed over a soothing melody being played by the violinist on the stage. The hall was dimly lit with soft, copper wall lights and warm, overhead chandeliers. The tables were thick glass, adorned with floral centerpieces, while the chairs were upholstered with plush, burgundy velvet.

A rich aroma of steaks, pizzas, herbs, and sauces wafted through the hall, enticing enough for a mer with a full belly to order three courses. Beralaxon ignored the rumbling in his stomach and decided to head straight for the rendezvous.

He navigated his way between the tables, the bars, and the automated serving trolleys to reach the elevators at the end of the hall. He summoned one of them and got in.

As it ascended, Beralaxon tried to soothe his nerves by gazing out toward the view of the city from its glass walls. Up and up, he rose above the city center with its skyscrapers interspersed with marble buildings built in the traditional Ornebular style consisting of domes, arches, and columns.

How could he have known? When have I been careless? A thousand doubts assailed Beralaxon's mind just when the elevator doors opened. He disembarked onto the fourth floor of Ambros Restaurant.

In stark contrast to the ground floor, it was much quieter here. The walls were glass, and all the seats were arranged next to them in cabins partially enclosed by padded dividers. In the middle was the drinks bar, surrounded by red bar stools, some of them occupied by elegantly dressed patrons. Beralaxon could even see a few familiar faces, but he deliberately avoided eye contact. The floor was covered in a thick, luxuriant, burgundy carpet so that there was not even footfall as Beralaxon walked over to one of the cabins.

He moved through the maze-like dividers and sat down in front of a table on a burgundy, high-backed armchair. Once again, he gazed out at the city through the adjoining glass wall. His most favorite building, the Cosmellini Museum, was visible from this wall. Its grand, white, marble dome glimmered despite the overcast sky, and its redbrick structure stood out among the drab grays of the city.

Soon, there was a knock on one of the dividers, and a voice asked, "May I come in, sir?"

"Yes, Biurella," Beralaxon answered.

The hostess appeared inside the cabin. She had olive-green eyes and long, brown hair pulled back into a high ponytail. She wore a dark-gray pantsuit with a tea-pink dress shirt.

"What will you have today, sir?" Biurella asked.

"Whatever you can whip up really fast," Beralaxon replied wearily.

"Oh," Biurella said, seemingly at a loss for what to say. "Well then, sir, how about an olconni pizza with—"

"No, not that," Beralaxon interjected.