Джеффри Дивер - The Goodbye Man

And the Process itself?

A benign bowl of self-help homilies and off-the-shelf therapy. Shaw had no evidence to blame the Foundation for Adam’s death — the reason he was here. The young man was just plagued with an emotional grid gone astray.

Nor was there any particular risk to Victoria or anyone else that he could see. She seemed buoyed by the Process, coming out of what had to be unfathomable depression at her loss.

Beethoven’s notes hummed through the camp. The woman’s voice then announced, “Master Eli’s Second Discourse is about to begin.” She reiterated that the lecture was mandatory for the Novices and voluntary for the other Companions.

Shaw cleaned away his lunch dishes and soon he was walking along the path to the Square, a dozen others nearby, heading in the same direction.

Shaw was tempted to privately criticize them all as lemmings. But that was unfair; these Companions were like everyone else — just trying to make their way through an often unnavigable world in the truest way they could. Colter Shaw found that route in an itinerant lifestyle, tracking down felons and missing persons, climbing sheer cliffs, catching air on his motorbike — testing limits.

Who had a lock on the right answers?

And who couldn’t use a bit of truing up?

The crowd assembled — trainees in the middle, ringed by ICs, like the morning’s session. Across the Square he saw Walter and Sally. He joined them. Her eyes focused on him and she smiled but cautiously. The men did the shoulder salute. Sally watched, mystified. “Oh, you boys...”

Shaw said to Walter, “What’s this Second Act?” Nodded at the stage.

The man chuckled and said, “All I’ll tell you is, it’s a doozy.”

The ICs began clapping and the longer version of the “Ode to Joy” reverberated throughout the valley, just as it had that morning before the First Discourse.

Beyond the stage and Eli’s residence, the mountains and trees stood in sharp contrast, black and brown and green, to an afternoon sky of stunning clarity. The rich scent of loam and pine, tinged with eucalyptus, wafted on a lazy breeze.

The regular clapping broke into frenzied applause as Eli walked onto the stage. His white tunic glowed once again.

He held his hands up and quiet descended.

It was brief, as someone soon cried, “We love you, Master Eli!”

Sparking more applause.

Finally, he silenced the crowd.

“Did you Novices have good sessions today?” He scanned those wearing the blue amulets. He looked directly at Shaw.

Shouts of “Yes!”

One male voice, “You betcha!”

Eli pointed. “I like him!”

The man beamed.

“You’re working on discovering your... what?”

“Minuses!” “Pluses!” The shouted words collided.

He turned to no one in particular, like a late-night talk show host remarking to his sidekick. “I knew this group was good. They’re stars! They’re gorgeous!”

Eli’s reward was yet more frenzied applause.

“You’ll tear down that bad construction in no time and start planting the Pluses in the garden of your True Core. I know you will. I know exactly how you’re doing. And you’ll do fine. I’m never wrong.”

He fell silent.

The crowd too.

“This morning I told you about Osiris. What a man he was! A god. God of the underworld. God of fertility.”

Three or four ICs held up tablets, filming.

“Osiris. What a great guy he was. Great! Gorgeous. You know what I like about him? He came back from the dead, remember? He’s immortal.” Eli walked closer to the edge of the stage. Was it Shaw’s imagination or was the spotlight a little brighter?

The master pointed a finger over the sea of upturned faces.

“Just like all of us. Just... like... you.” He pointed. “Immortal.”

Many of the long-timers were smiling. The Novices, for the most part, looked toward Eli with rapt attention but varying shades of confusion on their faces.

“Now I’m going to reveal the secret of the Process. This is what it’s all about. Immortality. Our slogan: Yesterday, Today, Tomorrow . Yesterday, as in your past lives. Today, as in” — he raised his hands, palms up — “today. And tomorrow, as in your future lives.” He let this settle. “The Process will teach you how to live” — he pointed to the gold infinity symbol on the backdrop — “forever.”

A woman beside Shaw — an Apprentice — whispered, “Death is a fallacy.”

Eli called out: “Death is a fallacy! Death is a fiction perpetuated by those in power, by politicians, by religions, by the medical community, by corporations, by the media. Death is a lie!

“They convince you that today is your only shot at existence. They do it to control you. To sell you their bill of goods. Buy this insurance policy, take this medicine, elect that politician, buy this house. Pay a hundred thousand dollars on medical treatment. Live now, you only have one chance. Don’t waste it. Give us your money and we’ll make sure there’ll be some left for your children. After, of course, we take a little bit for ourselves.”

On the word little he held his hands out wide, as if exaggerating the size of a fish he’d caught.

Which brought laughter and applause.

“ They’re the ones selling you the ugly, rotten concrete and clapboard houses with rusting roofs to bury your True Core.”

Nods and a few affirmative murmurs.

“Immortality...” Eli spoke in a soft voice, which had the effect of drawing the attention of the Companions even more. “Remember I told you this morning that today is brief, it’s fleeting; it’s a blink. And that’s true. But today is only a small portion of the entire life your True Core lives, which extends from the beginning of time to the end.

“Oh, I know, I know... This is a lot for some of you to take in. How well do I know that? I’ve been there. I’ve been where you are. I’ve been uncertain, I’ve been cynical. So, just listen to me. Hear me out. That’s all I’m asking. Will you listen?”

“We’ll listen!”

“We love you!”

He said, “Immortality. Every society, every civilization, every religion, primitive or advanced, has their own version of it. You remember my old friend Osiris, right? We love him, don’t we? Isn’t he great? Isn’t he gorgeous?”

Applause.

Shaw wondered where on earth this was going. He glanced toward Walter, who looked back and nodded.

A doozy...

“The Egyptians knew that the soul was immortal. Just ask Osiris and his wife. The Greeks? There were thousands of accounts about resurrection from the dead. Souls and bodies reunited and living in Elysium. Read your Plato, one of my favorites. Have you read him? You’ve got to read him. He’s a genius, he’s a gorgeous writer. He writes about the immortal soul all the time. He’s the greatest philosopher the world has ever seen. I read him every night.

“The Buddhists. Don’t you love Buddhism? I do. They say that when people die they transform from a physical body into an immortal body of light — the Rainbow body, it’s called — and they live forever. I love that! Don’t you?

“Christians? Believers will go to heaven for eternity. Sinners to hell. Jesus himself, well, look at him. Died, resurrected, then went up to heaven to live with his dad forever. You read the Nicene Creed? You have to read it. It says that every dead person will be resurrected during the Second Coming.

“Hinduism? They’ve got reincarnation. You live a good life, karma will make sure you come back in a higher place. A bad life, uh-oh. How about the Jewish people? I love people of the Jewish faith. The Pharisees believed the soul was immortal, and people would be reincarnated and, I’m quoting, ‘pass into bodies’ in future lives.