They walked down the bridge in silence and were greeted by a gathering of Atlanteans. Twinkling city lights illuminated the Atlanteans’ made-up faces, their exquisite jewelry and clothes. Atlas gave a gentle wave and the crowd broke into applause.
“Is this your queen, sir?” a woman’s voice called out in Atlantean. A bright blue heptagonal hat shielded her features.
Atlas raised Eureka’s hand high in the air. “Isn’t she marvelous? Everything I deserve?” His false smile deepened, as if seeing Eureka through his subjects’ eyes. “She could use a scrub, of course. And these clothes must be burned and never spoken of again. But where better to shop for replacements than in our city?”
As the crowd applauded, Atlas gestured toward a man at the front who was holding up a small black box.
“There he is! Smile for the royal holographer!” Atlas slipped an arm around Eureka’s waist and held her close. She could feel his rapid breathing. “Imagine your dead friend stands in my place, and smile.”
The crowd cheered even louder at the first forced peek of Eureka’s smile. The applause was deafening, but their expressions were vacant as they clapped. She loathed them. Did they not know about the Filling? She wanted all of them turned into ghosts. They were either idiots or as selfish as their king.
The mob circled around her as she and Atlas passed a cobbler, a market, and a hologram shop, each with lifelike wax statues of Atlas marking their doorsteps, advertising their wares.
“I bought my sole at Belinda’s,” a prerecorded Atlas panned through a speaker outside the cobbler’s.
“Nothing turns me on like Atlantean ardorfruit,” his voice blared through the speaker above an Atlas statue about to bite into a golden triangular-shaped fruit. “Tender. Tangy. Take some home tonight.”
Atlas steered Eureka into a central triangle surrounded by grand and gleaming buildings. Flags of many shades of blue hung from a hundred eaves, cascading in the wind.
“They love me,” Atlas told Eureka without a hint of irony. They mounted a stage that appeared to be floating. Half a dozen Devils lined its perimeter.
“What’s the penalty if they don’t?” Eureka asked.
“Delphine could never connect with the public like this.” Atlas glanced at Eureka, adding, “Her powers are remarkable, no one is arguing that, but without me, she’s just a witch in a wave.”
Eureka wondered whether he was lying for her sake or for his. Delphine wasn’t here because she didn’t have to be. She made Atlas do it for her. The king was a ghost, a puppet, like Delphine’s other creations.
They stopped in the center of the stage and looked down at a hundred Atlanteans. These people didn’t love him. No one did. Perhaps because it was so obvious he didn’t love anyone back. Eureka wondered if he ever had. Delphine said his heart wasn’t tuned that way. All of this mattered, but Eureka wasn’t sure how.
The royal holographer passed his device through the air before Eureka’s body, following her curves with his arm. Then he pulled a level and a great plume of silver smoke rose from his device. A huge hologram of Eureka popped into view in the middle of the audience, which parted, clapping and curtsying before her likeness.
“I give you,” Atlas boomed into an invisible microphone, “your Tearline girl! Eureka sacrificed her heart to resurrect your world. And soon her tears will bring you more good fortune. By tomorrow, the so-called Waking World, which has oppressed you for thousands of years, will be vanquished. We will have ascended. One question remains.” He turned to Eureka and kissed her hand with flair. “How to repay the girl who gave her heart so you could taste the sweetness of supremacy? Eureka, my treasure, this gift wasn’t easy to come by, so I do hope you’ll appreciate it.”