Penult (The Liminality, Part Four)

Chapter 20: Expedition

After breakfast, Bern and I carefully extricated the wing joint out of his wall. I took it and wandered off to the far edges of the bubble where the ground was flat and open and devoid of shacks. I wasted the morning sitting cross legged, staring at the gizmo and conjuring faulty replicas. If nothing else, I got in some good meditation.

The occasional curious person would wander by to see what I was doing. Some were newbies who had never seen the surface. The population of this latest iteration of the Burg was only a fraction of the previous settlements. The crackers had inflicted hundreds of casualties and many of the survivors had stayed up top with the resistance.

A ripping sound drew my attention to a huge slash that had appeared in the side of the dome. I hopped to my feet, half-expecting a Reaper to come busting through, but instead, it was a party of scavengers. They were a rugged and swarthy bunch, returning from the tunnels with sacks laden with lost things—wallets, keys, reading glasses—little of use in this realm. But Luther made them go out every day to scour the tunnels. There were treasures to be found for sure. That was how I found my sword.

They were a raucous bunch, recounting to each other a close encounter with a grizzled Reaper. They tossed me glances as they sauntered on by but did not pause to even say hello.

Alone again, time ticked on. The dome’s glow peaked. I was itching to get back to the living world. I was beginning to wonder if something bad had happened to me on the other side.

I couldn’t have been murdered. If I had, being this close to the Core, my soul would have been shunted directly to the Deeps. Only those who died when their souls were beyond the Core’s influence got to stay behind in the Liminality as Freesouls.

The Frelsians had discovered this loophole. I had to wonder if Karla had gone off to seek that existence without me. It was what she wanted more than life. I wondered what I would say to her if she showed up in this place right now. But not knowing her fate, I didn’t know what to feel. Grief? Betrayal? Anger?

The wing joint revealed none of its secrets to me no matter how intensely I stared at it, which way I turned it or tried to think through its mechanisms step by step. I was just doing my due diligence for Olivier, going through the motions, not really expecting to get anywhere. I littered the ground around me with my attempts at replication. None came close to doing what the original could do.

I was about to give up and return to the cabin, when Kitt came striding up to me from the settlement, a courier bag slung from her shoulder.

“Any luck?”

“Nope.” She nudged the joint with the toe of her boot.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, not if you’re interested in keeping your leg.”

“Looks like it would be easy, doesn’t it? I mean, it’s just a hinge, right?

“This is way more than a hinge,” I said. “This thing is an engine. This is what makes those wings go.”

“Sure would be nice to get me a pair of Seraph wings. I could cover a heck of a lot more ground on patrol.”

“Yeah, well. Don’t hold your breath, unless you want to shoot down another Seraph.”

She stood there brooding with her lips pursed. “Luther wants to see you again, by the way.”

“What for?”

“The usual. Keeping tabs. You know how he is. Ever the micro-manager.”

“When does he want to see me?”

“The sooner the better. Now would be good. He’s no fun when he’s anxious.” She turned abruptly and strode off towards the gash whose edges writhed with roots attempted to heal.