Elysium: Book Six of The Liminality

Chapter 34: The New Realm

It sure is peaceful out here in the void. Too peaceful. Unbearably so. I hear the faint tinnitus I wouldn't have been able to detect in a place with normal background noise. But here at times it's a constant whine, loud enough to drown out my thoughts. I can hear my heart beat, my breath sliding in and out of my lungs. Every rustling and thump seems amplified.

In response, I have been doing my damnedest to create a racket that can drown out all that crap.

I play my latest project guitar, this one a spruce-top acoustic. I have given up trying to electrify and amplify my bass. This is my second attempt at a six string. The first one I made sounded so bad I turned it into a corned beef sandwich with coleslaw and ate it for lunch. This one is a little bit better. Its way prettier on the outside, though I suspect something is wrong with the internal bracing. It sounds little better than a cigar box with strings.

Nevertheless, I can sort of get it in tune and it drowns out the sussuruss. It even sounds good enough to help me write some songs and practice my singing, which frankly, is not my strong point musically. I can stay in tune pretty much but my voice isn't the kind that would keep someone hanging around a coffee shop or prevent them from picking up their pace in a subway station.

But Zeke doesn't seem to mind. There are times I swear he's trying to sing along with a subaural whale-like resonance. When I hit a bad note out of my natural range, he lets me know with a little shiver and a whimper. He's like a personal vocal coach that way.

It sure would be nice to figure out how to amplify stuff, eventually, or acquire something real. That's why I wish I could go back to the Lim. There are real luthiers there, some weavers and some whose claim to fame is building instruments the old school way—from actual wood.

"Shing!"

A couple of open strings on my guitar just start vibrating spontaneously, without me doing anything.

"Zeke? Did you do that?"

A finger a chord. It rings and sustains even with my right hand limp at my side. I'm thinking this is a feature not a flaw. I have inadvertently designed some kind of self-playing acoustic instrument. But then the buzzing starts. This is noise now, not music. I put the instrument down and look around for my pillow, intending to muffle the damned thing until I can figure out what is going on with it.

I glance down at it and recoil, aghast. The thing is reconfiguring itself. The sound hole is flattening and pursing out at the edges to form lips. And there's a tongue forming deep inside the cavity. Disgusted, I kick the damned thing across the chamber, cowering up against the far wall. The neck cracks as it ricochets off the wall, strings go flying, but the thing is still making noise. It lands on its back and tilts itself off the floor with the crab-like legs it has just sprouted.

"What the fuck? Zeke! Kill it!"

"Do not be alarmed," says the mouth.

"Who the fuck are you? How are you doing this?"

"Ms. Pounce sends me. She has recommended you."

"Recommended me for what?"

"A consultation."

"Gaia sent you?"

"You are experienced among the Lesser Realms. She believes your input would be valuable."

"Valuable for what?"

"Realm craft. Setting rules. Designing landscapes. It is time."

"Who are you?"

"I speak for Cardullo. A Maker. One of the two dissenters. The new realm. It is ready. For shaping."

"Okay."