10/20/06

THE END

LeBlanc's first thought was that it was extremely kind for whoever was in charge of the FarPlane to arrange that all the flowers be in varying shades of lavender to echo her favourite colour and make her feel at home. Her second thought was that a mirror or two would have been nice. She could run her hands down her swan-like neck but that could not tell her if there were bruises spoiling the ivory flesh or the prints of metal fingers branded into the slender column. What sort of eternity would it be without a mirror?

She was quite sure she was dead. She remembered the feel of Nooj's body against hers as, their lips sealed in a final kiss, he strangled her with his prosthetic hand. It had been ordained almost from the beginning that he would kill her and she was more pleased to die by his hand than she would have been to go on living without his love. Still, this was not exactly how she had imagined the afterlife. For one thing, there seemed to be nobody else around. LeBlanc had lived her life surrounded by people, first on her home island of Kilika then in Guadosalam where servants and Syndicate members kept her company. Logos and Ormi had been particularly amusing companions and she resented what she could not help but notice - that they had not come pelting after her to serve her in this world as well.

The sound of falling water caught her attention at the same time as she became aware that something was dangling from her wrist. So her fan had accompanied her; at least she could protect herself if need be. A closer inspection of the accessory disabused her of that idea. The fan was just a fan, a contraption of folding sticks covered with lace and tapestry. None of the blades or other useful devices was included. She hoped this FarPlane was as safe a place as all that implied. A short distrance away was what appeared to be a wall of water. She strolled in that direction and shortly found herself standing on the edge of a precipice into which great cataracts poured themselves. Startled, she drew back lest she fall into the abyss, then - curious - leaned forward, seeking to find the bottom. A force she could not see prevented her from moving any closer or from tumbling over the brim. So this was a safe place, a place where one was as protected as a child in a nursery school, unable to do damage to whatever sort of body was in use in this existence.

LeBlanc looked around, there seemed to be no chairs, beds, benches or other seating arrangements. So. Here on the FarPlane, she was expected to stand up all the time, not be permitted to explore and required to entertain herself. She was willing to do that last if she only had any idea how to go about it. This was going to be a very long eternity.

She had walked around a bit, now wishing for some sort of variety in the flowers at her feet, trying to decide if one direction of identical landscape seemed preferable to another when she gradually became aware of a human shape at the corner of her eye.

She spun around and confronted a tall man wrapped in a bulky red coat. In spite of the diffused light, he wore dark glasses and his face was otherwise mostly concealed by his high collar although she thought she detected experience and wisdom in the parts she could make out.

"Do I know you?" LeBlanc demanded, tapping her fan against her outthrust hip.

"No. I cannot remember our ever meeting when alive. I am one of the Settlers - In here. My job is to answer questions and help you become familiar with how things are run. Oh, by the way, my name is Auron. And you ..." He looked at some writing on the palm of his hand. "You are called LeBlanc?"

"Auron. I think I've heard that name before. Were you famous when you were alive?"

"Only locally, I think. All people are famous to those who know them well. Now, what can I help you with?" Auron spoke mildly.

"Can you find us somewhere to sit down? I'm tired of standing up. And can you tell me if my neck's bruised? I can't find a mirror or even a pool of still water." She knew she sounded petulant but could not seem to help herself. "And will Logos and Ormi show up anytime soon? I need them to run errands."

The man laughed lightly. "Peace, peace. I'll answer whatever I can, but one at a time please. Here." He made a gesture and a chair, table and sofa appeared, covered with grass green material embroidered with lavender blossoms. "Sit down and be comfortable. No, there are no marks on your throat; injuries don't usually make the transition except in certain special cases. All you need do to get a mirror is make a picture of one in your mind then imagine it real. Try it."

LeBlanc furrowed her brow, trying to see a mirror, then it was there! The small looking glass fell glittering through the misty air and landed at her feet. With a coo of delight, she scooped it up and gurgled at the reflection of her face and neck. "You're right! No bruises. I would have sworn those steel fingers would have left their mark."

"They did, back on Spira. But this is a brand new body with all new parts. None of the wear and tear of the old one. Now, what else did you ask? ... Oh yes, your housemen. No. They're still alive as far as I know. Let me check." He drew a dark green object from his coat pocket and pressed a few buttons. "Yes, still alive. Did you expect them to be dead?"

"No, of course not ... well, yes, I did. I thought ..." Her voice trailed off disconsolatedly.

"Anything else?" Auron kept his amusement hidden.

Supressing a small moue, LeBlanc muttered, "This is not the way I thought the FarPlane would be. I thought I'd meet all the ones I lost over the years, like my parents, and we'd have life pretty much the way it was on Spira. I'm bored, not happy like they said I would be."

"If that's what you want, you can have it without any trouble. You see, each person can design the sort of afterlife he wants. That way everybody's happer. There are certain exceptions of course."

"You keep saying that. What does it mean?"

"Just that certain people are bound by other rules, even here. You don't have to worry; you fit in very nicely with the general regulations. I don't see any problems for you. Now just fill out this form and take it over to the left to that counter and you'll be all set." He smiled kindly and handed her a sheaf of papers clipped together at the top.

"What counter? I don't see anything." She demanded, looking around.

Auron sighed. It was difficult remembering that not all new-comers had been well schooled in the temples when they were at their zenith and, thus, not all knew what to expect once they had crossed over.

"Look carefull to the left. See that red glow over there. That marks an assistance point. If you ever need anything while you're here, look around until you see one of those lights and head for it. One more thing, before I go - those you left behind can come visit you when you have been here long enough to be listed in the register. If you have a guest, you will be called by a small winged Voice which will guide you to the proper spot. Any other questions?"

"How long does it take to get listed? I think I'll have a visitor pretty soon. Probably lots of them. They'll want me to name my killer. And what sort of people fit into the other rules?"

Her mentor raised an eyebrow. "You can't do that. Spiran justice is no longer our concern. Don't bother to try. And the others? Well, suicides for one and homicides for another. You don't have to worry about that. They won't be permitted in your part of here." With that, he turned and walked off to the right, stopping after a hundred feet or so to unhook the flask from his belt and take a hearty slug.

LeBlanc, stunned by the final comment, noticed that the chairs and other furniture had gone along with Auron. With a determined set to her mouth, she closed her eyes, concentrated and called up a desk and matching chair. So they thought they could get away with this, did they? So far as she was concerned, it was just another attempt to come between her and her destined love. She spread out the bundle of papers Auron had given her and carefully examined the specifications. The part which most interested her was the section in which she could designate which still living individuals she would like to include in her eternity. Naturally, she would call for her faithful servants and some few of the Syndicate, just for old times' sake. And there was one other.

By her reasoning, Nooj would be a suicide and thus bound by more rigorous rules than one who died in another way. He was also a homicide; he had killed her. Therefore, he would be restricted in his choices once he had found that death he was so enamoured of. It could not possibly be much longer before he turned up on the FarPlane and got his marching orders. So - with a firm stroke of her pen, she entered his name into the list of those who would be necessary to make her after-life the pleasure it was guaranteed to be. She was certain that with the sins he would carry he would not be able to decline the assignment. At last, she would have her Noojie-Woojie just where she wanted him and this time he would not be able to do a thing about it. She smiled beatifically.

5