Джеффри Дивер - The Goodbye Man

For, of course, another $7,500. Maybe more.

Samuel rose, as did Shaw. “One last matter. We don’t shake hands here. We don’t embrace.”

He moved his right hand, open, to his left shoulder. “It’s our greeting and our farewell. So much easier and more respectful, isn’t it? Do I kiss this woman, do I hug this man? Do I try a bone crusher handshake?” He now gave the gesture once more. Shaw reciprocated.

“Ah! Like you’ve been doing it all your life. Well, welcome to the Osiris Foundation, Novice Carter.”

Shaw sighed, like a reformed criminal suspicious that he was being robbed. “This better work.”

The back door opened and Adelle appeared, from where she’d apparently been waiting.

“Journeyman Adelle will show you to your dormitory.”

Why weren’t they Journey women ?

“You can change, freshen up, relax. Dinner is served promptly from seven until eight. Attendance is mandatory.”

As he followed her out, Shaw paused, turned. “One question?”

“Yes?” Samuel asked.

“Your website doesn’t really say anything. What exactly does this Process do?”

With a dash of reverence in his voice, he said, “Nothing less than completely change your life... forever.”

Shaw and Adelle walked through the camp, over a gravel path. The place was now making him think of an army base, though one from the nineteenth century.

He noted a dozen people on the rustic grounds, carrying notebooks: a middle-aged couple, several men by themselves, all in their forties or fifties. They appeared to be businesspeople. He spotted a cluster of three women, all in their twenties, Shaw guessed, looking like cheerleaders returning from practice, especially in their matching blue and black uniforms; their skirts were short, above the knee. There were several men too, in the gray tunics of the Assistance Unit, all solidly built.

Shaw wondered about the light blue blouses and high-neck sweaters of a matching shade. Maybe because the color would be easily spotted in the forests and fields surrounding the camp. Not as obvious as orange but helpful for pursuers, in case that became necessary. This would have been an outrageous thought... if not for the vicious beating he’d just witnessed.

He noted several more men and women wearing the silver amulets, then more of the tunics, who wore no necklaces. How many of the Assistance Unit, he wondered, were like Hugh and his two thugs? Maybe most people here were like Samuel, intelligent, humorous and devoted to helping those who’d signed up to battle their daily woes. Maybe they were no different from, say, some workers at the internet companies he’d met on a recent job in Silicon Valley.

Shaw corrected himself; he’d thought: Hugh and his two thugs — and another person too.

He was walking beside her at the moment.

A golf cart passed. This was the only means of mechanized travel within the grounds. He spotted several of them, driven by those with the Assistance Unit, in their tunics, or by followers in the blue and black uniforms.

“How long have you been in the Foundation?” he asked Adelle.

“A few years.”

Silence.

“So you’re like full-time.”

“I’m on staff.”

“You like it, huh?”

“Master Eli is a genius in providing the best solutions to the problems we all face. I’m proud to be a part of it.”

He was curious about her personal life. An employee, she’d be here all summer. Despite Rule Six, the full-timers must have romantic relationships or at least the occasional liaison. Some might even be married. And what of the brunette on the roadside where Adam killed himself? Was she close to anyone?

Never miss an opportunity to gather relevant facts. They’re usually better tools and weapons than hammers and guns.

“So nobody leaves? Not even to get to town for a few hours?”

Her answer: “The rules.”

Shaw studied the camp carefully, looking for entrances and exits, the number of Assistance Unit people.

And looking too for the man in the orange sunglasses, who had, possibly, seen Shaw beside the Kia near where Adam had died. Shaw now realized that he’d thought the man had two names: Jeremy Frederick. Now, he knew he’d misheard. It would’ve been Journeyman Frederick.

“Novice Carter?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re admiring the camp?”

“It’s something.”

Had he been busted doing surveillance?

Possibly not. Her face exuded pride as she said, “Master Eli designed it himself. He studied architecture, you know.”

“I didn’t.” He glanced again at the peaked roofs. “So you’re not open in the winter.”

“No. But even if we were in a warmer area, the Foundation would be closed from fall to spring. Master Eli needs that time to go to the Far East. He’s always exploring and learning and refining the Process. He says it will never be complete. He’s helped me so much. He’s the smartest and most generous man in the world. I lost my baby two years ago.”

This was an electric jolt, all the more shocking because she delivered the stunning words with a faint smile.

“Jesus. I’m like, I’m sorry.”

“Oh, no, it’s all right. Master Eli made it all right. Here’s your dorm.”

Shaw, unable to think of a word to say, proceeded with her to Building C. Like all the other living quarters, it was a long, nondescript structure with a covered porch in the front, accessed by two steps up. Like the others, the style was the faux log cabin he’d noted earlier. Four teak rockers, aged to gray, sat facing outward. Shaw followed Adelle through the unlocked front door and into a corridor, with four doors on each side. No decorations on the walls, as in the Administration hallway. Shaw’s room was the last on the left. She opened the lock — a simple one, easily picked, but this was noted merely in passing. If any staffers wanted to get in, they’d get in. As for anyone else? What did Shaw have left to steal?

Adelle handed him the key. “You’ll find your clothing inside. They assessed you for size, and they’re always right. But if something doesn’t fit, just let someone in Admin know and they’ll get it sorted out.”

They...

“There’s a bag for those clothes inside.” She gestured vaguely toward his torso. “You can leave all that outside the door.”

“I can’t hold on to them?” he asked, though he knew the answer.

“I’m afraid not. It’s part of the Process. Master Eli says we should leave everything in the past behind. They’ll be laundered and waiting for you when you leave.”

“Sure.”

The Beethoven notes sounded again and Shaw glanced toward the window. The woman’s voice echoed from loudspeakers again. “The time is five-thirty p.m.”

Adelle said, “They sound every quarter hour from six a.m. to ten. Master Eli feels that that’s as much time-telling as we need. He says there’s too much control by the corporations and the government. They dictate everything, even the time to the second.”

Another, though different, they ...

He said, “Those clocks sure can screw around with you.”

Adelle didn’t reply but, after a pause, she explained how to get to the dining hall and added, “Tomorrow’s schedule will be inside on your desk.” Then her eyes turned suddenly shrewd. “It’s different here, different from what you’re used to, Novice Carter. As much as you want help, because of Minuses in your life, you resist. It’s natural. However, the sooner you let go, the sooner you’ll embrace the Process and everything will be wonderful.”

Her words had been a gentle but unmistakable leash jerk. Shaw realized that maybe he deserved it. Perhaps he’d allowed some tone of condescension to slip into his time reference. He simply could never step out of character again.