Джеффри Дивер - The Goodbye Man

Eli looked the injured woman over, lying in the dust, curled up, an arm covering her bloody face.

Several Companions reached out and touched Eli’s tunic as he passed.

He bent down and helped Carole to her feet, as the bodyguards kept watch. Shaw’s impression was that this had happened before; a heretic punished. Two of the women ICs glanced at each other, exchanging sly smiles. They were enjoying the incident.

“I’m sorry, Master Eli.” Carole choked on her sobs. “I was wrong.”

“My poor friend and Companion. A shame you’ve been hurt.” He looked out over the agitated crowd. “We never want violence.” But it was clear Eli didn’t mean this for a minute. He was close to smiling.

“Apprentice Carole. Everyone! Do you see the risk that the Toxics present? How they’re terrified by my Process? By the truth? Do you see the lengths they’ll go to to stop me? To turn us against each other? To bring me down? They know I can revolutionize the world. I’m a threat. They’ll stop at nothing.”

“Please,” Carol sobbed, “can you forgive me?”

Eli studied her silently. Then he looked out over the crowd. “Shall we forgive her?”

Calls of “Toxic.” “Punish her!”

Most, though, saw that Eli’s retribution had come to an end. Steve began chanting, “Forgive her, forgive her!”

The rest of the crowd joined in. The chant was accompanied by the sharp, insect click of clapping.

Shaw glanced across the Square to Victoria. Who was not chanting or slapping her palms together. Emotionless, she stared at the sobbing woman and the man standing above her, his hand on her head.

Shaw wondered what might have happened if a cry of “Kill her” had spread into a chant. The image of a frenzied mob stoning the woman to death didn’t feel at all outrageous just now.

Eli embraced Carole, blood staining his white tunic. This was a man who couldn’t say no to a dramatic moment.

“It’s all right, Apprentice Carol. All’s forgiven.” He looked toward Anja and gestured impatiently. The woman climbed down from the stage and put her arm around Carole. They walked toward the infirmary.

The Guiding Beacon returned to the stage.

Brilliant, Shaw thought. Eli had not only deflected attention from the police visit, the aliases and a past he didn’t want to come to light; he’d also made clear disloyalty would be punished. Carole had told her trainer of the horrors and indignations of her past, assuming that they’d be kept confidential. Eli, though, had weaponized them. Everyone in the camp now knew that Eli had something on them. Betrayal had been taken off the table.

Eli announced there would be another Discourse today, an unscheduled one. Then he added: “Spend the next few hours on Introspection and journaling. And never forget: The best...”

“...is yet to come!”

The ICs leapt in and kept the responsive chant going, smiling and striding about happily, as Eli and his crew walked off the stage. The Companions dispersed.

Shaw watched Carole’s husband walk quickly toward the medical center. Shaw then spotted Walter walking his way. The man appeared to be looking for him.

“Hey, there,” Walter said, his face clouded.

Shaw asked, “You see what just happened?”

“No. Something came up.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Sally’s gone missing. She was in the room and I went out to see about that chopper. When I got back, she was gone.”

“What is it exactly? Alzheimer’s?”

“Yep. She’s on meds. Galantamine. Doesn’t do much for her.”

“I’ll help you look.”

“You wouldn’t mind? I’m more than a little worried.”

“Did you tell the AUs?” Shaw asked.

“I did, yessir. But there’s something going on. They said I had to deal with it myself. Then they scurried off like nervous mice.”

A disaster control plan was being worked out, Shaw guessed, after Detective Etoile’s unexpected appearance.

Walter’s face was contracted with concern, eyes shooting left and right.

Shaw now recalled his earlier thought about the color of the shirts and blouses the Companions were issued. Easier to spot escapees, though also easier to find someone who’d gone missing.

The men started searching the Square, then expanded their orbit. The woman would be confined by the natural and man-made barriers on three sides but to the east was the high cliff — an eighty-foot fall — and the path Shaw had found that would lead eventually to the highway. But stray from the route to the road and you’d descend into thick woods and a labyrinth of canyons and rock formations, hundreds of square miles of wilderness. Falling and exposure were the big risks. Other threats existed too: wolves and mountain lions, coyotes and boar. Rattlers could be anywhere.

“Damn helicopter,” Walter muttered. “Took my attention. Next I knew, she was gone. Maybe it spooked her. I don’t know.”

They tried the dining room. Inside was a table of Inner Circles, huddling and somber. The conversation was muted. Shaw also noticed a middle-aged couple in the corner, sitting over coffee. They were solemn too. He recognized them as two of the people who had stepped forward to save Carole from the mob. Shaw shared a nod with them.

The two men continued to circle the camp.

“Her short-term’s shot, a lot of the time.” Walter’s right hand was clenched. “She’ll remember what we had on our honeymoon dinner and what brand the plates were. The shape of the teacup handle. The name of the singer in the lounge. Forty-two years ago.” He sighed and squinted as he gazed into the dense woods. “Where are you, honey?” he whispered.

As they asked Companions if anyone had seen Sally — no one had — Shaw observed that an uneasiness had descended over the camp. A division, it seemed, had formed among the Companions between Eli’s true believers and those troubled by his treatment of Carole and undoubtedly the bogus philosophy of the Process, with the flames fanned by the appearance of the police. He witnessed arguments, some heated.

The two men walked in expanding circles through the valley, then took to the woods. “It’s like the forest preserve next to our house in Akron. We lived there thirty years ago. Might seem familiar to her. Another thing: she’s unsteady too. I got her one of those watches that tells me if she falls. But they took it when we checked in. They said, Master Eli can work miracles. She’ll be right as rain. So I gave in.”

The path ended in a dead end against a rock face. They turned around. The sky was growing overcast. A wind had come up.

A snap of wood. Shaw held up a hand and Walter stopped. Shaw eyed rocks and branches he could use for weapons in the case of a wolf choosing to hunt in full daylight — a rarity — or a mountain lion.

He believed he saw movement about thirty yards behind them, where they’d just come from.

“Is it Sally?” Walter asked.

“No, either an animal or somebody in the bushes following us.”

“Those AUs, they don’t skulk. They just walk up and ask what you’re about.”

Shaw picked up a sharp rock and took a few steps toward the figure.

It seemed to recede. He dropped the weapon, and the men continued deeper into the woods, north toward the wooden wall.

“Where would she go?” Walter muttered.

Shaw gave it eighty-five percent that Sally would instinctively stick to a trail or creek bed. He didn’t know much about memory illnesses but it seemed to him that what failed was data on a computer disk. Survival instincts would be like the operating system burned permanently onto the motherboard. A trail meant habitation, a creek bed meant an easier trek and water for drinking.