Toll of Souls (eBook)
244 Seiten
Bookbaby (Verlag)
979-8-3509-6269-7 (ISBN)
Eldergrom writes character-first fantasy and science fiction tales. A long time writer, he's written nine novels prior to this, including 'My Undead Heart' and 'Faith of the Revived.' His recent writing reflects his increasing engagement with super-normal skills such as dowsing, telepathy and remote viewing.
Looking to the world like a gawky teenager, four-month-old Byron is equipped with the belief that he is an eighty-year-old titan of business. Woken up twenty years after a natural death in a hospital with alien advisors, he returns to a world that at first appears to be the natural progression of the one left behind: he sets off on a solo journey to reclaim his vast fortune. The very fact of Byron's reappearance causes shockwaves in the business world: can he ride the tide of chaos to regain control of Caynson Enterprises? Will his adult children embrace his unexpected return in the shape of teenage boy?
4
A day passed, filled with the normal rounds of physical therapy, motor skill work, meals, naps, sensory integration experiences, and speech therapy. The inability to speak clearly was the deficit that pained Byron the most. He decided he had the oratory capacity of a three-year-old. He tried his idea on Silas during a weights-room workout. Silas agreed.
“You are looking okay, something like a teenage bookworm, but you open your mouth and it’s just bizarre. The pitch, the volume, your tone—they’re all off. Talking isn’t going to be a strong point for you for a while. Still, you shouldn’t worry. In this region anyhow, people are patient and understanding.”
That infuriated Byron. The last thing he wanted was people being tolerant of him. He liked it better when people feared him for good reason. He wanted that power back.
“You might find that difficult around here,” Silas said, and Byron then he remembered: here, in this weird hospital, his thoughts were always exposed.
Am I just a lab rat? he wondered once he was by himself. He worried, would they be listening to him, even while in the shower or while exploring the teenage body he barely knew? One thing that puzzled him was the general lack of enthusiasm he’d observed with his male parts. In his first life, Byron had been interested in, but not obsessed with, sex. Now, it seemed like it never occurred to him.
He heard no answers, so he embraced the illusion of isolation.
That moment quickly failed. What if they cut their losses and shut me down so they can start over? Or would they even start me over? Cynthia said he was not Byron, nor could he ever have been, in the Observer’s judgment.
His future—any of his futures—might depend on the giant-sized space alien’s quick impression of him. Not a jury of his peers, not the embrace of his family, not the legal protections of his foundation, not the government of the United States, nothing was aligned to save him from the consequences of the Observer’s unsympathetic glimpse into his resurrected self.
After his last gym visit of the day, Silas returned Byron to his quarters.
“Silas, a couple of things have been bothering me. I’ve never had to shave since I woke up. Also, my man parts have been surprisingly…lazy.”
“Yes, we all have those responses managed. Population is tightly managed, and so are the impulses that lead to population growth.”
“I don’t miss the shaving,” he lisped, “but it’s too quiet down there.”
Silas nodded agreement and left the room.
There was an hour before his scheduled evening meal, so Byron took his ruminations with him into the shower. His mind was spinning up with possible ways to gain control of his situation.
It was much harder in this life than in the last, he thought. I’ve lost many of my advantages. Maybe they cashed out the Foundation to get me this far, but they simply can’t murder me.
The act of showering distracted his mind only briefly. When he got to his final rinse, he dropped the water temperature lower and lower, testing himself. He got the water down to three degrees above freezing before he cut it off. His resolve was still there. He felt strong.
I’m fighting this all the way, he decided. Just like the good old days.
The morning started normally, with light stretching, diction work, and breakfast. He received his meal on the balcony of his room. As he was finishing, Cynthia joined him.
“Byron,” she said.
I’m still Byron to her, he thought.
“Yes, you are the only Byron I know,” she said, using her voice. “Unless you strongly wish otherwise, the life you are now experiencing will continue. We don’t foresee you choosing otherwise, so you have three choices available to you. You can depart this facility, leaving here with a family member who will get you to a residence and fill you in on the intervening times. Alternatively, you can remain here until you feel fully prepared for leaving. Or you can take a brief tour of where you would reside, then come back here to decide your next steps. You could return and let us know if there’s anything else we can do to help you adjust.”
“Get me out of here now,” he said aloud. His delivery was unevenly pitched, but his diction was clear enough.
“I’ll notify the family agent immediately and I’ll let you know as soon as they respond.”
“Why can’t I wh…wh…” he faltered, attempting to say, “walk out the door,” but the thought was there.
“Well, there is a hiking trail below, but it’s over twelve miles to the nearest village and nighttime temperatures often fall to ten degrees below freezing this time of year. So, no, we would be irresponsible to let you do that. Please enjoy your last few meals with us. We’ve worked hard to emulate the foods you enjoyed twenty years ago. There are many new things that we enjoy, and we hope you’ll come to like them too.”
Throughout their exchange, Byron’s irritation was amplified by his inability to intimidate Cynthia. I’ve lost my touch.
“No,” Cynthia said, a gentle smile on her face. “We learned about you before agreeing to do this. We’d been prepared for you to behave like Byron. Now, we wish you well.”
She turned and left the room.
That evening he enjoyed lobster thermidor alone in his room. He requested light jazz from the room’s audio assistant and started mulling over how he’d resume control of Caynson Enterprises.
He pondered: if Winston had turned out as he’d planned, Caynson Enterprises should have become one of the ten largest conglomerates in North America. Maybe even globally. Or beyond?
They hired an extraterrestrial to reengineer me, he thought. Maybe the company has some of the cosmos in its asset portfolio.
Byron walked into the consultation room where he usually met with Cynthia. A tall young man in a sand-colored monk’s robe was waiting for him. No one else was there. Folded over the edge of a chair was an identical robe.
“I’m Winston,” the young man said. He was half a head taller than Byron, his brown hair cut short, as if growing out after being shaved bald. He smiled warmly and bowed slightly.
The shy boy Byron recalled had transformed into a grown man with an authoritative presence. His dominion must be vast, Byron thought.
“How are you?” Winston asked.
“Okay,” Byron said. That was one of the few words he could say that sounded natural.
“We’ll be leaving here for Plattsburgh. I live there now, and I’ve secured an apartment for you in the same residential complex.”
“Plattsburgh? Jerkwater city,” Byron said with a bit of saliva spraying.
“The City on the Lake has always been a lovely city, and it’s on a major upswing now. Our community is built out over the waters of Lake Champlain, which, unlike the ocean shoreline, is unlikely to flood out. Also, we have magnificent view of the Green Mountains as well as the Adirondacks. Considering how hot it is in southern and southwestern North America, there are great benefits to being so close to Canada.”
“How are we going to get there?” There were no roads leading away from the facility. Perhaps there was a helicopter landing pad on the building’s roof?
“I’ve got an appropriate vehicle waiting for us at ground level. I know you’ll be intrigued by it. I recall you had a ’36 Pierce Arrow in your vehicle collection, correct?”
“What a beast! Its motor was bigger than most modern cars. How did you…?”
“Are you ready to leave? Anything to bring?”
“No, nothing I couldn’t improve on. Let’s go.”
“I’ll let Cynthia know.” After a pause, he said, “She’s bringing in the paperwork now. I brought you that robe.” Winston indicated the robe over the chair. “It’s common daily wear where we’re going. The hospital scrubs you’re wearing would cause unwelcome attention. Ah, she’s bringing me the documents now.”
“They know I’m good for all the expenses here, right?”
“There is an issue of responsibility. I’m going to agree to be responsible for you going forward. Also, I’ll be agreeing that this facility has fulfilled its duties.”
“Damn it, Winston, didn’t your mother teach you about diverting or deferring tvacating liabilities? I gave her an explicated curriculum of business situations you should be alert for, including signing anything personal. Let’s just walk out of here and have them send us a bill—preferably to your post office box in the Cayman Islands.”
“Byron, I made a solemn promise when we agreed to bring you back. I hold myself responsible for keeping my word.”
“There’s no contract? Good boy!”
“Where we’re going, contracts have no power. We live together and work together by consensus and consent.”
As predicted, Cynthia entered the room carrying a wooden clipboard with a single sheet of paper on it. Athena floated in, following Cynthia into the room. Silas entered last and closed the doors behind them. Athena hovered near the door.
It had been two weeks since Byron had last seen Athena. She didn’t need to be in the same room with Byron to know everything about him, yet she came in for this moment.
Byron indicated Cynthia’s clipboard. “Looks like there’s a document you’re planning to sign after all. Bad habit, boy.”
Silas laughed, and a smile came across...
| Erscheint lt. Verlag | 31.10.2024 |
|---|---|
| Sprache | englisch |
| Themenwelt | Kinder- / Jugendbuch |
| ISBN-13 | 979-8-3509-6269-7 / 9798350962697 |
| Informationen gemäß Produktsicherheitsverordnung (GPSR) | |
| Haben Sie eine Frage zum Produkt? |
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