Shelley Johnston (or Johnson) Struthers found that there were two options for teleportation at the Big V on Valgate, another one of Nautilus’ Rim Isles along with nearby Viterbo just visited by Philip Strevor in a dream. She was standing at 108/108/108 before it, certainly a significant location with its triple number of length/width/height within the sim representing The Moon in all aspects. One of the options was a club in the neighboring sim of Oleg called Relics. Through Jer Left Horn she’d already been there, back in novel 43, talking about the relic from the game Cyberpunk 2077 logically enough, especially given that throughout it all we look from the perspective of a person name *V*. This is obviously related to that.
—–
“I like your hair,” says Emeralda, wishing she had some herself. Which Shelley then arranged, deal swung. She then knew what Jer Left Horn from back in photo-novel 43 was looking for. The Devil, but a particular blue one. “Guy named Mike,” Emeralda said, still remotely playing with the size and positioning of the wig upon her head, a duplicate of Shelley’s except for the green color to match her body. “Had a mate named Pat. Both fruit headed. Lemon and lime, although I can’t remember which is which. Center of Missouri they were from, but more immediately, North Carolina and Tennessee, although, again, which is which escapes me. Is that enough? Can I still keep the hair?”
“Location?” Shelley pressed. “She’d heard rumors about a Lemon Free State existing in the left middle lower upper part of the continent back in the day. A failed country, more importantly, rulers perhaps still on the roam. They could be anywhere. She had to pinpoint.
Emeralda found a position on her head which seemed to fit just right after reducing all wig prims by 5%. She tried to analogize this to the continent, the right position on it to find the roaming, former aristocracy. “Duke,” she said, remembering the title, the dependency.” She didn’t say anything else for a minute.
“And, let’s see, Pat as a Duchess (then)?” Shelley filled in the gap.
“I’m… not sure,” said Emeralda back. “Had two boys as I recall. Benny and Jer– *wait*.”
Green Emeralda stared at blue Shelley across the gap and it closed. The hair was magical. They were one. Shelley was back in the Tiler shed, hiding from the whites of their eyes. And the skin, white as well. Whites all around. Which was bad. She’d He’d have to kill them all after gaining their trust. He’d find a way.
“And this is where we came in,” says Fern to likewise observing Billy.
Sunklands 