Elysium: Book Six of The Liminality

Chapter 11: The Archives

It is a big mistake, climbing back into that pod. It might have helped if I had been a better listener. Jenks had told me that most souls in Elysium spend their existence ensconced in these things. That big cushy room I found myself in upon arrival is just temporary lodging for new folks. But I had thought temporary meant a couple weeks not a couple hours.

Anyhow, as soon as I climb into the pod, it seals up on me and wiggles away deep into the Elysium's inner cortex and stops. Here I am stuck with nothing to look at but the dim bluish glow of the pod's interior.

Half an hour in, I am on the verge of screaming out my guts in frustration. I don't need rest right now. My eyes are pegged wide open and mind is racing with nowhere to go. If the Singularity's strength could be measured in bars it would have shown next to zero right now. It occasionally hints of its presence, there is no chance of locking onto a signal.

Yes, I have a nipple to suck at and there are appendages that prop my head and massage my muscles and help me sit up when I want. Still, it takes all the poise I can muster not to hyperventilate myself into hysteria. Tears are seeping down my cheeks.

"Help?" I say, hoping that there's something or someone who could hear me. But there is no sound in here but for the sloshing and scraping of other pods.

My fingers explore every centimeter of the interior, seeking some kind of control, a knob or button that would make the damned thing open up or move or anything. But there is nothing. I am totally at its mercy.

Over and over, I count up to one hundred and down again, hoping that something will happen. My countdowns accumulate without result. I feel myself quietly going insane. This place is starting to make Avernus feel like a beach in the Bahamas. I'm exaggerating, of course, but I am suffering here.

Hours pass. A day? Eventually, I do grow calmer. I simply don't have the endurance to keep up this level of distress. I don't really sleep but I allow the pod to lull me into a sort of quiescence. My displeasure continues to simmer beneath my calm façade, but for now at least, I am at peace.

***

The pod lurches, and I am instantly alert. I am hoping it takes me to some sort of destination and is not simply moving out of the way to allow another pod to slip past me. But it keeps moving. Though it pauses from time to time, it continues to shuttle along, shifting levels, changing directions, clearly on its way to somewhere.

When it stops and pops open, I don't linger. I spring out of that fleshy coffin and crawl well away from its influence. I am standing in a broad curving corridor. Fritz stands before me, all stern and righteous.

"Gotcha!"

"What?"

"You defied my sanction. I am petitioning to bring you back down below to finish your vetting."

"Great!"

"You don't fool me. You're not even cleaved. How did they even let you up here?"

"Oh, I was cleaved alright. Got the corpse down there to prove."

"What poppycock! Look at you!"

"My flesh grew back."

"Nonsense. That's not how things happen."

"I ain't shitting you. Talk to Donna. Or Jenks."

"I've already petitioned your Primentor to have you released back into my custody. I am taking you back down to the beaches and we are going to try this all over again."

"Fine with me. I'm all for it. But good luck with that. They seem to want me up here."

"I doubt that very much. The soul who intervened on your behalf has been dealt with. She has been summarily ejected from the corpus."