Excerpt: Babylon Remembered

The Joint Erosion clings to the western edge of the chasm near its widest point, just north of Cluffbridge. The proprietor holds no loyalties to Heaven or Hell, only to strong drink and good food. He demands the same obeisance of his customers.

Thus it is that City Guard Lin nurses a glass of absinthe in peace in solitude. She frowns at the table. It is carved from fossilized wood, and has done nothing to deserve such a frown, but it has borne much worse in the long years of the apocalypse.

"Cheer up." Another glass lands on the table, provokingly close to her own glass. The chair across from her fills with a ragged man wearing a dirty woollen hat, the earflaps folded up in concession to the heat inside the tavern.

"Oh, it's you," says Lin tiredly. "Have a seat. What's that? You already have? How nice for you. What do you want, Tomo?"

"What happened to 'Hello, Tomo. How are you?' Hmm? How will we ever rebuild society if we can't even spare a civil word for each other?" He folds his arms across his chest and straightens his legs under the table, his grin acknowledging the hypocrisy of his complaint.

"Cut the crap, Tomo. I'm not in the mood."

"Yes, that's obvious. I told you that job would be the death of you."

"You said that about all my other jobs, too. And I'll tell you what I said every other time: It's none of your damn business."

"Neighborly concern, that's all. How many years have you been a guard, Lin?"

Lin's answer, when it comes, is subdued. "Thirty five years now."

"Long enough, don't you think?"

Lin's head snaps up, and she says sharply, "How is it that you've never served?"

"Didn't pass the psych screening." Tomo smiles. He reaches out suddenly and pulls Lin's right hand onto the table, turning it to expose the back. "I'm surprised you did. No Mark. You're lucky to have made sergeant."

"Maybe." Lin reclaims her hand, cradles it in her lap. She sighs. "Maybe it is time for a change."

"What did you do before? Shop clerk at Mazarin's?"

"No. Delivery boy for Dharma Food."

Tomo snorts. "Now there's magical thinking for you. 'Dharma Food' my butt."

"Tomo."

Tomo shakes his head. His eyes catch Lin's. He says softly, "Lin Zhengyin, I say again, clerk or city guard, there's no future in either. In your heart, you know what you have to do."

Lin groans. "Oh, don't start. Just don't."

"You know it's the truth."

"Fine, it's the truth. Go tell the Lord of the City," she says bitterly. "Maybe that will help."

"Help what?" Tomo peers at her sharply, then gasps. He leans forward, elbows on the table. His next words are low and urgent. "Is that it, then? You're in trouble with /him/? Lin..."

Lin shakes her head. "I don't know. Not yet. I don't know."

"What's going on?"

"Tomo," Lin says slowly. "You've travelled, haven't you? Before AND after the seven seals, right?"

Tomo nods.

"Have you ever, I mean..." Lin shakes her head again. "Never mind, it's ridiculous."

"What?"

"Underhill. Faerie. Changelings and fox spirits. Is there anything behind the stories? Are they any part of your 'truth'?"

Tomo's breath hisses through his teeth. He closes his eyes a moment, then says, "No. No, don't you get involved with them."

"They're not just a myth?" Lin grips the edge of the table, starts to stand.

"A myth! Yes, they are that, but myths are dangerous. Haven't you ever read any?"

"Of course I have!"

"Then you know there's no salvation to be found in them. Old stories strewn with bodies and ruined kingdoms. You mustn't listen to their lies! What have they been telling you?"

"Nothing." Lin stares at Tomo in disbelief. She lowers herself back into the chair. "But you've spoken to them before?"

Tomo leans back again. The question hangs unanswered between them.

Lin reads the answer in the silence. "You have. Tomo, where? How? And why haven't I ever seen them before?"

"They don't like the City," he says at last.

"They don't like the City. So, what does that mean? They're hiding somewhere in the wastelands? Where? What about the Host?"

Tomo shrugs. "The Host doesn't see them."

Lin remembers the disembodied voice, the nearly invisible gestures. "Then how did you find them?"

"I didn't. They found me. They like music."

Lin nods, understanding. She's heard him play his violin. "Tomo, isn't the fiddle the devil's instrument?"

Tomo scoffs. "Superstitious nonsense! Any tune can be a hymn, if played with love."

"Pious waffle," Lin shoots back. Then she sighs. She has no musical talent to speak of.

Which Tomo knows. He says, "In all seriousness, Lin, leave it alone. Hand in your resignation if you have to. I know someone in the southeast who's hiring. And..."

She frowns at his hesitation. "I know, I know. 'The doors of the Abbey are never locked.'"

"Exactly. So don't throw away your soul chasing fairy tales!"

"Oh, I won't," Lin assures him.

Tomo stares hard at her. "Good."

They both finish their drinks in silence. They exchange tight nods, then go their separate ways.