Lisa still hadn’t come home. Astrid had rung the police, but they had said a missing person’s report couldn’t be filed until two days had passed. Then they had suggested that Lisa might have run away, so Astrid had angrily hung up on them. Lisa wouldn’t run away, she thought. But where is she? It wasn’t like her daughter to go off without telling her. They had planned to go out and get their hair cut; a great new salon had opened on level 800. And besides, Lisa had no reason to leave. She was perfectly happy at home. Wasn’t she? Astrid stared gloomily out her living room window. They lived on the 600th level on the north side in a nice apartment. It had a view of a park, which was pleasant, as far as high-rise parks go, with trees, shrubs, flowers and a grassy lawn. They were all synthetic, but so was everything these days. A bubbling stream, lined by benches, ran through the park. On one of the benches was a plaque that paid tribute to the ancient indigenous people who had once lived in the region, albeit several hundred feet below.
