Chlorine Halos

Beginnings

Racing out of the Crescendo, the soles of my sneakers tapped an accelerating rhythm against the marble floor with every sprinting stride. As I passed the beveled columns at the entrance, I tucked the torn card in my back pocket and reached to the bottom for my strata. Barging through a crowd of soon-to-be diners, my rapid apologies for the elbows and shoulders fell on the syncopated beats between the pattern of my quick footsteps. The light seeped from the chess pawn in my hand and I leapt over the bronze railing, feeling the breeze of the open air in the Escheron. I turned my strata upside-down.

Shift.

The bridges which spanned across each level presented an immediate problem I neglected to give any thought. As the first obstacle approached, I harbored the obvious expletive and threw my weight to the side, spinning away from a potential concussion. These aerial pirouettes proved their value with every averted collision. After brushing a banister, a man leaned over, hand at the side of his mouth, eyes tracing my trajectory.

"Are you mad?!" he shouted. "Use a penrose, ya crazy!" He wasn't pleased with the shrug I tossed back as a response.

At the eleventh level of the Escheron, I grabbed the side railing, swinging myself over the bronze fence and into the square corridor while rotating my strata.

Shift.

The walls whipped by, filling my ears with a hollow whoosh. As the illuminated nook at the end of the hall quickly neared, I tilted my light-bearing fist and gently touched down at the entryway of the precinct. My arrival drew the attention of several passing arbiters and a scrawny Maestro who held his large ringed conduit at the side of his baggy overalls.

"Avian, everything okay?" he asked, walking closer with a furrowed brow.

"It will be," I replied. While his worried tension relaxed, I smiled, enjoying this particular moment. "I think I like you better this way. You're more..." I looked away, searching for the right words. When they came, I snapped my fingers. "Eye level."

"Ha. Ha," he retorted with a blank sarcasm. "We're actually testing some prototype gear. If we can get it to work, elements and arbiters will be able to safely travel to the grid without a driver. The only thing is, right now..." He sucked in his gut and pinched the pitch of his voice. "...the device is a little snug." He exhaled, chuckling. "Come on, I'll show it to you."

"Maybe later," I said, holding up the scrap of wrinkled card stock. "I need to speak with Jasper."

Maestro fixated on the artistically detailed lettering. His bottom lip trembled as the spirited twinkle in his eyes vanished. His voice dropped to a flat, empty tone. 

"Avian, where did you get that?" he asked, reaching out and touching the creased surface. Shallow breaths held back the welling tears. "Please tell me this is not some kind of sick joke."

"No, it's nothing like that," I said, attempting to comfort through the assurance. "David and Ruth found this in my hand when I came back from wherever I was." His glistening gaze drifted to me, showing the acceptance of that truth. "Does it mean something to you?" I gently placed the card in his hand. He continued to run his fingers over the individual letters.

"For every birthday, for every holiday that's worth remembering, I would get a card like this from my sister." A tear fell from his face, soaking into the paper, blurring a penned serif.

"Madison," I said softly.

"Maddie," he replied as he hunched over, squeezing his eyes shut and pressing his knuckles against his lips. A weak groan was followed by a deep breath which helped him regain composure. "How do you have this?"