In Olivia, she learned to disbelieve her eyes, the first, most valuable lesson.
Olivia was a nightmare city, suspended from an ancient steel net across a canyon. The houses, shops, parks, hospitals, bars, all swelled and swung underneath the net, pouched and pendulous. To move from building to building you picked your way across a network of ropes and lines, miles above nothing. Even without a fear of heights it was a daunting prospect. She spent most of her time drunk.
“How do you deal with it?” Voice, fuzzy with drink. “So calm… how can you be so calm?”
The twins shrugged. “Every city falls sooner or later.”
On the way home, hands slippery with alcohol and fear, she sees faces peering between the strands of the net, evil faces. The gremlins laugh at her, and saw away. When her back is turned, they run to repair the damage they have done.