Elysium Shining

by Terri Kraemer

  She pulled down the visor while the music started. Her view changed to that of a giant robot. Il’lyse flexed her fingers to test the sensors on them, and the robot moved. Then she danced to the music, letting the robot wreck the building in the middle of her garden. The machine was stronger than the brick and plaster. Every last wall that went down at her command brought her closer to opening a resort, but there was more.

  One day there would be customers staying here and enjoying the amenities. The Peacekeepers’ lieutenant from the Hulda’fi conflict would get to enjoy his sleigh rides, along with any other patrons who wanted them. Most of Il’lyse’s share of profits would go to paying off more of her damages than the court had asked her to try for the sake of her provisional pardon. One day her boyfriend, her brother and sister, and their future wives, would come to visit, and she would refuse their payment for staying for a week or more. One day she would be the one to offer them a place to call haven.

  Not today. Today she broke down the walls that had scarred her. The therapist and doctor of technology, who stood next to the bunker entrance to be safe, might have thought that she was beyond the reach of any psychological help, but this was her life now. It was her slice of Elysium.

  For the first time in over three revolutions, Il’lyse shined.