The Demon and the City

choice. And she was one of the lucky ones: with her own place, no need to live with her four brothers and two sisters, and her good job at Paugeng.
    Robin wiped her eyes and nose in front of the wall-sized mirror and repaired what remained of her minimal make-up. Her eyes looked frightened and vast in the small paleness of her face. She wanted to hide in the luxurious bathroom in this enclosed silent place and never go back to her cramped flat or that good job which involved feeding a supernatural captive experimental drugs every day. The wish was so strong that it was a moment before she realized its impossibility. This scared her: Starting to crack and go paranoid, Robin? In the mirror, her eyes were rimmed with crimson. On impulse, she rummaged in the tidy medicine cabinet and found a familiar blue phial with the red Jaruda bird on the label and a list of instructions. Paugeng should dole them out free to employees. Robin wasn't going to spend good money on headache pills otherwise. She swallowed two of the flat, white painkillers ("suitable for headaches, toothache and muscular disorders") with a handful of water scooped from the tap. Surely the water would be all right up here, she thought, surely there was no need for filtering and boiling in this part of town? Hastily, and somewhat guiltily, she slipped some of the pills into her bag in case the headache started up again, then put the phial back in the cabinet and slid the door shut. She should go back to Malian. She stepped out of the safety of the bathroom into a wide, bulb-shaped hallway. What had happened to the corridor? Robin, disoriented, stood quite still and watched the floor crawl slowly away. It moved like a slow wave, a thick liquid, ebbing toward the steps. Beside Robin's ear, the wall bulged outward and rumpled back. Robin thought: Oh god, those weren't headache tabs . I've taken something else. I'm tripping . Her head felt muzzy and her vision swam. She took a step forward. An opening appeared in the wall and, like a child, Robin went through. She was in an unfamiliar small room, yet there was again the statue on the plinth. The drone appeared in the melting doorway behind her and placed a tactful hand on her shoulder. She let him lead her out, and back to the lounge. Malian Sardai was all apologies.
    "I'm terribly sorry. The nano-decorator's set on a cycle; it just comes on and we're so used to it . . ."
    Once she knew that she wasn't hallucinating, Robin felt better.
    "The whole apartment's like that?"
    "So clever." Malian gave her a smug too-much-for-little-me-to-understand look. Robin had not realized how wealthy they must be: the entire apartment was nanoed up. You wouldn't ever have to move, you could do your own interior decoration just by reprogramming the setting. She also realized, without a word being said, that Malian Sardai had become bored with her. Malian didn't really believe that anything could happen to her weird daughter: they were too rich, whatever lifestyle Deveth had chosen to adopt. Malian didn't think anything could really befall people like herself, she truly could not countenance it, and so nothing did. They remained in their secure, fashionable lives up here in Meriden, quite safe, entertaining the most delightful lifestyle options, while the rest of the world battled and struggled below. Except that Deveth was still missing. Robin gave Malian an artificial smile.
    "Thank you so much for seeing me. I feel better, somehow, getting it all off my chest." She felt like an artless little liar, but Malian gave her a sad, brave smile in return and clasped her hands.
    "Thank you, Robin. It makes me feel better, too, knowing Deveth's got such loyal friends."
    She called the drone, who took Robin down in the elevator and showed her the very obvious way out through the garden. Making sure I leave the premises, Robin thought. She thanked the drone, who, mouthless, could not smile, and made her way to the waiting car. At least she got a lift back into town. But if Deveth's parents didn't care what had happened to their daughter, then Robin did.
     
    Later that evening, the downtown tram dropped Robin at the foot of the ruined temple of Shai. She glanced up at its squat, forbidding walls, its huge dome, wondering whose temple it had once been. It rose up like a fortress, made of dark gray stone shot with odd black streaks. She knew little about Shai, only that it was old, much older than the surrounding city, and rumored to be