“You were lucky you had a friend to help you,” Amelia said to Larry.
“I’m beginning to realize that.”
Larry couldn’t help noticing the way Amelia gazed at Affron while he spoke. Perhaps she thought that Affron was in fact different.
When they had eaten their fill, Lucia shooed them away. “Go and settle yourselves,” she said. “But come back whenever you like. Many of us congregate here as darkness falls. It is a good time to eat and drink and talk about the day.”
So Amelia, Affron, and Larry left her with Veronique and walked back to the center of the town. “Lucia is lovely,” Amelia said.
“Is everyone lovely here?” Affron asked.
Amelia shrugged. “I wouldn’t say so. I wouldn’t call Rigol lovely, I suppose, although he is quite entertaining. And there are those who have been…damaged.”
“Like Veronique and Jubal?” Larry said.
“Yes, and many others.”
“What damaged them?”
“It is hard to explain, if you haven’t experienced it. Not all of us have. This power of ours—this ability to create portals—has a way of projecting itself out of you and into other people. And in that instant, both of you feel all that is or could be—all of this in a single instant. Some people do not recover from the experience. Their minds are destroyed—at least, they are no longer able to communicate with us or care for themselves.”
Affron and Larry glanced at each other.
“Well, I see that you know what I’m talking about,” Amelia said.
“I’m afraid so,” Affron replied.
“If you have done this, then I beg you, do not do it anymore. The danger is too great. You will see people like Jubal and Veronique throughout Elysium. We care for them, we love them, but we cannot cure them. We cannot bring them back.”
They fell silent for a moment. Larry recalled the instant that he had first used this power—on the old woman in the temple of Via—and he shuddered at the memory. “I wonder how many people have done this and didn’t end up here,” he said.
Amelia nodded. “Yes, they may be dead, or living out their lives in darkness, on a world not their own, cared for by someone who has no idea what is going on in their minds. We have no way of knowing. But here is Rigol. Let’s see what he has done for you.”
They were on a side street near the center of the town. Rigol sat on the steps of a two-story building. As before, he was reading his book. He looked up as they approached.
“Did your book distract you from your task, Rigol?” Amelia asked with a smile.
“It did not,” he replied, with a hint of indignation. “Come see what I’ve done.”
They followed him inside the building and up to the second floor. A small corridor separated two doors. Rigol opened the door on the left. It was empty except for a bed on one wall, a sink and toilet on the other, a table with an oil lamp on it, and a wooden chair. On the bed was a pillow, a blanket, a blue shirt, and a pair of black pants.
“Two rooms, very similar,” Rigol said. “This one is Larry’s. For the clothing, I guessed at your sizes. If the clothes don’t fit or you don’t like the style, come visit me next door. I have a large stock of clothing, along with much else. People here make fun of me, but if they need a new pair of boots, they know where to go.”
“We couldn’t survive without Rigol,” Amelia said.
Rigol bowed to her. “Thank you, my lady,” he replied.
“Also, if you don’t like these rooms,” Amelia told them, “if you want more space or more privacy, there are other places where you can live. Or we can help you build a new home. Whatever you like.”
“No electricity and that sort of thing, of course,” Rigol added. “But we do have public baths on the south side of town. Very refreshing.”
“And now we will leave you,” Amelia said. “I expect you have much to ponder. Come to the café tonight and meet more of us.”
“Thank you both,” Affron replied.
And with that Amelia and Rigol left them. Larry sat on the edge of the bed; Affron sat on the wooden chair. “Well, here we are,” Affron said. “Home at last.”
Larry recalled how he had found his way into Elysium: thinking about home.
But was this really home? Was this where he was supposed to be? “Everyone is very nice,” he replied.
“Amelia is the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” Affron said.
“She’s stunning.”
“I wonder—” Affron began, then stopped. “We have much to learn about Elysium,” he said instead.
“There’s a lot to learn about everything.” Larry suddenly felt very tired. “But first I want to take a nap.”
Affron smiled and stood up. “It’s been a long day. Let’s meet later and walk over to the café.”
“Of course.”
Affron left the room, and Larry lay back on his bed. It was comfortable enough. He would try the new clothes later. Elysium was utterly silent. How many worlds had he visited? It felt as though he might be losing track. Was this the end of his wandering? Was this home?
And then he recalled the hollow eyes of Jubal and Veronique, and he shuddered. It was good that he had found people who understood him, who would take care of him. But he didn’t want to end up like Jubal and Veronique.
He closed his eyes. After a while he must have dozed, because he was awakened by a soft knock on the door. It was growing dark, and he realized it was time to return to the café. “Come on in,” he called.
The door opened, but it wasn’t Affron. It was a white-haired old man, wearing shapeless pants and a ragged blue top. His eyes looked sad. He seemed vaguely familiar. Had Larry seen him on the street? No, that wasn’t it…
“You are the young one, then,” the man said in Latin. “Larry.”
“That’s right.”
“And your friend—Affron?”
“Across the hall,” Larry replied.
“Ah,” the man said. “Come with me if you would, Larry. Let’s go visit Affron.”
Larry rose from his bed and obediently followed the old man. They crossed the hall, and the man knocked on Affron’s door. After a moment they heard Affron’s voice from inside. “Enter,” he said, in English.
The man opened the door, and Larry followed him into the room.
Affron was sitting in a chair by the window. He stared at the man, who didn’t speak. Affron looked puzzled, and then a very different look came over his face. He stood up, and then he dropped to his knees in front of the stranger.
The old man inclined his head and smiled. “Salve, Affronius,” he said. “Nomen mihi est Hieron.”
Hello, Affron. My name is Hieron.
Thirty-Two
Affron
Every town in the Roman empire had a statue of Hieron in front of its temple. In most of these statues he leaned forward, his hand outraised, as if striving to see the future and lead his people safely into it. His likeness was on the empire’s coins; it was drawn in the empire’s schoolbooks. He was the humble peasant to whom the gods had given Via. He was the man who had used Via to bring back the secrets of the gods, for the betterment of all the people of Terra.
His followers had conquered the empire through the force of their ideas, and Terra had become a better place. And then he had disappeared. The gods had called him to them, it was said. His job on Terra was done.
The priests knew this was not true. Hieron had stepped into Via one day and had not returned. Many viators did not return from their visits to other worlds; there was always danger in those visits. Hieron hadn’t been summoned by the gods; he had caught a disease, or been eaten by a tiger, or struck by lightning.
But…but…here he was, standing in this room, two paces away from Affron.
“Come, come—arise,” Hieron said.
Affron got slowly to his feet. “It is you,” he whispered.
“It is.”
“How? How are you here? How are you alive?”
“Ah, you have not been told everything about Elysium, it seems.”
“People don’t die here?”
“Oh, we all die eventually. But the passage of time slows for us. I cannot explain it, any more than I can explain many things I have seen and experienced. Lucia told me you were from Terra, and that excited me. It has been many years since I was there.”
“You left Terra when you found this place.”
“I did. It was time. I had done what I could for Terra. I had no more to offer. Best to let others carry on.”
Affron made a connection. “You saw the problems coming.”
“You mean, arguments about weapons and medicines and such? Yes, I had my opinions about such things, but I could not convince everyone. And tell me: did the problems come?”
It seemed strange and troubling that Hieron did not know. “They did, my lord. It has been years now since Larry and I left Terra. But things were not going well in the empire when we left, and I doubt that they have improved since then.”
Hieron sighed. “I tried. It was never easy, but…You must tell me the story, of course, but not now. I don’t think I could bear it just yet.”
Affron had another insight. It should have been obvious to him, ever since the first time his hands made motions in the air, but here was the truth of it, standing in front of him. “You always said that you discovered Via on that hillside outside Roma,” he said, “but that wasn’t what happened, was it? You created Via, the way I created my own Via and Larry created his. Out of your mind. Out of yourself.”
“Yes, that’s right,” Hieron replied. “And then I tried to use it to help people. I thought it would be easier for them to accept it if they thought it came from the gods. I visited many worlds, made many decisions about what would work and what would not. All I wanted was to help. I like to think that I did.”
He looked upset. And that upset Affron. “My lord, you helped many millions of people,” he said. “Your memory is sacred on Terra. You did not fail.”
“In the end, Affron, everyone fails,” Hieron replied. “Time is a long, long river, and we are just ripples in its current. Eventually all those ripples disappear. But I think perhaps you know that.”
Affron thought perhaps he did.
“Come,” Hieron said. “Let’s go to the café. You have many people to meet, and we have much to say to one another.”
So they left his room. The night was lovely; probably every night was lovely here. He couldn’t stop staring at Hieron—alive! Walking next to him and talking about Lucia’s pasta! Ah, life was beyond strange.
But when they arrived at the café, Affron found himself staring at Amelia instead. Her hair was down, she wore a simple yellow dress, and she was lovelier than the night. She came and sat next to him. “I didn’t realize your connection to Hieron,” she said. “Lucia just explained it to me.”
“He is like a god in my world,” Affron replied.
“He doesn’t speak of it, at least to me. But it’s good when we can do something for others with our powers.”
“We struggled on Terra to do the right thing with the power Hieron gave us. How we struggled.”
She reached out and covered his hand with hers. “No need to struggle anymore,” she murmured.
They talked till late at night. He met many people, heard many stories about many worlds. He finally told Hieron about Terra; he was troubled by what he heard but not surprised. Affron ate too much of Lucia’s food and drank too much of her wine, but that didn’t matter. It was glorious.
And after it was over, he walked with Larry back to their rooms.
“What an amazing world,” Affron said.
Larry didn’t respond.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” Larry said. And then he added: “I’m not sure I belong here.”
“Why not?”
“I’m so much younger than everyone. The people are wonderful, but do I want to spend forever with them?”
“You can leave and come back whenever you like,” Affron pointed out. “I was talking about this with M’Nasi. People build their own portals in the woods—we saw someone doing that. You don’t have to go through the Tulf now that you’re here.”
“I suppose.” They stopped in the street outside their building. “Maybe I don’t belong anywhere,” Larry said.
“You’re tired, Larry,” Affron said. “You’ve been here less than a day. Your life is changing too fast to make sense of it. Don’t try. Not yet.”
“Okay. But when? When do I try?”
“I don’t know. I’m not the right person to ask. Ask Hieron, or Rigol, or Lucia. Any of them. They will know how to adapt.”
“I don’t want to end up like Jubal or Veronique.”
“We must be careful of that, of course. It never felt right, using my power the way I did.”
Larry looked at him in the moonlight. “Amelia likes you,” he said.
Affron felt absurdly pleased at this. “Well, I like her,” he replied. “We have a lot in common.”
“She’s a reason to stay here.”
“Yes, I suppose that’s true.”
“I miss Palta,” Larry said.
Palta. Affron scarcely thought of Palta anymore. “She must be…older,” he said. An obvious thing to say.
“If she’s still alive,” Larry pointed out.
“Yes. Of course.”
But Larry changed the subject. “I miss my family back on Earth,” he said. “I miss my mom and dad, I miss my brother and sister. I miss French fries. I miss playing the piano.”
“Of course.”
“I miss that other world you saved me from—the one with Lieutenant Carmody, and Professor Gardner, and another version of my family.”
“Yes, I remember,” Affron said. “Leaving that world was a hard choice for you to make.”
“I even miss Kravok-Li. The food. The stupid pots and statues. The happy people.”
“The food was terrible,” Affron said. “But I understand.”
“I was thinking about all this this afternoon, when we were trying to get into Elysium. I think that’s how I got us in. It was something they expected.”
“I wonder who ‘they’ are,” Affron remarked. “Who created this place? How? There’s so much we don’t know.”
“I wouldn’t have found it without you,” Larry said. “I owe you so much. You’ve given me years of your life.”
“I didn’t want you to suffer the way I suffered, trying to figure this out. It was good to have a partner on the journey.”
“And I’m so very grateful.”
This, too, please Affron. He felt a pang of sympathy for Larry. He had felt many pangs of sympathy for him over the years. And for himself. “You’re free now,” he pointed out. “You can do what you want. There are many more things to learn, I suppose, but you know how to learn them.”
“Haven’t I always been free?” Larry asked.
“Have you felt free?”
Larry shook his head. “Not for a long time.”
“Let’s get some sleep,” Affron said. “All will be clear in the morning.”
Larry laughed. “Not likely.”
They went inside the building and prepared to spend their first night in Elysium.
Thirty-Three
Amelia
Amelia and Affron walked together in silence through the woods. Weeks had passed since he had arrived in Elysium, and they did this every day now. When they tired of the silence they talked about their pasts and their struggles. They had so much in common—everyone in Elysium had much in common, it seemed—but so much was different, as well. She had grown up in a world with an advanced technology and collapsing governments. Constant wars loomed over everyone’s lives, even as people lived in comfort. And he had lived on Terra, the world that Hieron created! So strange to view that world—and Hieron—through Affron’s eyes. Amelia had never heard Hieron say much about what he had done on Terra, alt
hough surely he had talked about his past with Lucia or M’Nasi or one of the others. But now everyone knew how much Hieron had struggled to improve his world, and the ways he had ultimately failed. It was sad.
Much about Elysium was sad, she often thought. Not just because of Jubal and Veronique and the others like them, the constant reminders of the danger their powers presented to each of them…no, beyond that, there was a sense of sameness about the place. Increasingly she found herself traveling to other worlds, just to see what they were about. Of course, there was danger in doing this, but so what? You had to live your life.
But she had felt no desire to use her portal since Affron arrived. He, of course, loved Elysium, loved the absence of danger, loved being able to live with others like him. That was common with new arrivals here. She sensed—she knew—that they were kindred spirits. For Amelia, Affron had made Elysium enchanting once again.
They stopped by the brook that gurgled through the woods. They sat on its bank, took off their sandals, and put their feet into the water. They had done this often. Affron placed his hand on hers; as usual, his touch made her shiver. She squeezed his hand and pressed it onto her thigh.
“I was in love once,” she said. She hadn’t mentioned this before.
“Should I be jealous?” he asked.
She smiled and shook her head. “It was before I understood myself, before I started to build a portal. I was unhappy, and I thought Friedrich was the solution.”
“But he wasn’t.”
Amelia shook her head. “He was wonderful, actually—kind, funny, generous. He tried so hard to please me, to understand me. But that turned out to be impossible.”
“So you left him behind?”
“I did. I left many people behind, of course—as you did, as all of us here did. I think of them, once in a while. But Friedrich more than most. He was wonderful, but I needed a different life. I found it here.”
“Do you ever think of going back to your world?”
“No, not seriously. What would it accomplish? And everyone I loved might have died in some horrible war. That’s likely, in fact. I don’t want to find that out.”
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