Джеффри Дивер - The Goodbye Man

Two stern AUs passed. The four of them traded shoulder salutes. When the guards were past, Frederick said, “His office is off the Study Room.”

“I was there. I didn’t see any offices.”

“It’s hidden. As you face the bed — that circular bed? It’s against the right wall, in the mural of Osiris.”

Shaw remembered the painting.

Frederick said, “I saw inside one time. There were files on a desk and a computer. Bookshelves. File cabinets.”

Computer, Shaw thought. Contact with the outside world.

“Is the door locked?”

“I don’t think so.”

“You know any side or back entrances to the residence?”

“One in back, I think.”

“Security cameras?”

“I don’t know. But the residence is never empty. There’re always AUs around. And Inner Circles. Eli and Anja and Steve. Those two cold-fish bodyguards.”

The loudspeaker musical notes resounded and Shaw and Frederick fell silent.

“All Companions are requested to assemble in the Square.”

The no-nonsense directive was repeated.

It was the improvised Discourse.

As the two men walked toward the Square, Shaw asked, “What do you think? Does Eli actually believe what he preaches?”

“I’ve wondered that.” Frederick waved his hand around the camp. “I sometimes think he does, and he’s created this whole philosophy to save the world from depression and loss. His temper, his need for control, his anger, his mercenary side, his... appetite for the women, and men, that’s just who he is. And, look at it one way, if he does believe it, then murder’s not really murder. You’re just sending a soul into a future life.”

Tough argument to make in court.

Frederick continued, “Or he could think it’s pure bullshit. But I’ll tell you one thing: Whether he’s in it for the money or to save souls, he’s not giving it up without a fight. No way.”

The stage was empty at the moment, and many of the Companions were abuzz.

But not all. Others stood in solemn clusters, expressions of uncertainty on their faces.

Shaw looked for Victoria. Didn’t see her.

“What’s this about?” Frederick wondered aloud.

Shaw said, “I’m betting diversion, something to take our minds off the helicopter and Carole’s heresy.”

He heard a cheerful voice behind them. “Apprentice Carter. Journeyman Frederick.”

Shaw turned and nodded. “Journeyman Samuel.”

“Always that delicious sense of anticipation, times like this. Even in the Inner Circle, we don’t always know what our Guiding Beacon is up to.”

The greater the suspense, the better the sleight of hand.

And the tighter the control.

The men gazed toward the stage.

Shaw thought of the office off the Study Room. What would he find there?

And there was a computer. If Shaw could get online he’d contact Mack McKenzie, who could alert Tom Pepper. His friend in turn would call colleagues at the Bureau and the Washington State Patrol.

Samuel asked Shaw, “Your journaling is going well?”

“I think so. It’s difficult.”

“Now that you’re an Apprentice, you know we’ll be looking for Minuses and Pluses from past lives. Those are always trickier. Is this a real memory, or from a John Wayne movie I saw as a kid? They’re more subtle, harder to find. We’ll do it, though. I often say the Process is about clearing the fog.”

“Your metaphors get better by the hour, Journeyman Samuel.”

The man laughed.

Shaw asked, “Were you a counsellor or therapist before you joined the Foundation?”

“Me? No. I was a teacher. Middle school. Master Eli taught me everything I learned about training and the Process.”

“I’ve heard glowing reports about you as a trainer,” Frederick told him. His mannerisms were natural, understated, his voice calm. A natural actor.

“Ah, now you’re making a fat old man blush.”

Shaw said he looked forward to the forthcoming sessions, putting what he saw as the right amount of joyful anticipation into his face, which seemed to please the trainer.

Samuel probably knew nothing of Eli’s murderous nature. He would be aware of the cult leader’s sexual appetites and blunt, egotistical behavior, of course, but, as Frederick had just suggested, those were typically just part and parcel of a visionary’s personality.

Shaw looked over the crowd once more. Still no sign of Victoria.

Frederick said, “I was just thinking, Journeyman Samuel. If enough people go through the Process, after the whole world is trued-up, maybe sadness can be eliminated entirely. Like we did with smallpox.”

Samuel looked thoughtful. “We can only hope, Journeyman Frederick. Though that would, of course, put me out of a job.” He winked.

The clapping started. Shaw was standing near a speaker and realized that this time someone had placed a microphone near clapping hands; the sound was especially piercing.

“The best...” Clap, clap, clap. “...is yet to come.”

“The best...”

“...is yet to come.”

The droning words and the slapping of palms rose in volume. Thirty seconds, a minute. Two.

Then the rhythmic clapping degenerated into frenzied applause.

Eli climbed onto the stage, turning to the audience and giving the salute. Once again, he glowed in the beam of artificial light from on high.

He then lifted his hands, smiling and nodding. As before, he pointed to certain people in the audience, blessing them with his attention.

That confident face.

Not the face of a murderer. But then Colter Shaw had seen plenty of killers who looked downright angelic.

“Greetings, Companions. Greetings!”

Slowly the sound faded.

“I’m making an important announcement today. I’ve got something... You’re going to like this. You’re going to love this. I guarantee it!”

“We love you, Master Eli!”

“We’re with you, forever!”

“Our Guiding Beacon!”

Eli’s hand rose. His right only. The gesture resembled a Nazi salute.

The Companions quieted.

“I’ve brought us to the most successful year ever, with the most Journeymen graduating from training and moving into the world to live better, happier lives.”

Now, cheers and frenzied clapping.

“I know what you want, I know what you need. And I’m giving it to you. I am proving to the Toxics of the world, the lying religions, the selfish politicians, the pernicious charlatans... You know ‘pernicious’? I love that word. Means evil. But sounds worse than ‘evil,’ doesn’t it? I think so.”

Laughter.

“The Process proves that what they’re trying to sell you is... manure!”

The ICs booed a bit, and the crowd took it up.

No chant with that , though Shaw wouldn’t have been surprised if Eli had encouraged one.

“I am now going to take our family to a higher level.”

Didn’t the Manson cult refer to themselves as family?

“I am announcing here the formation of the Osiris Foundation Circle of Representatives. This will be an elite group of Companions who will meet with me on a daily basis and help me in planning our expansion around the country... and eventually the world.”

Shaw and Frederick shared a look.

“And I am delighted to announce that the Director of the Circle will be one of our most loyal servants, a trainer who’s distinguished herself.” Eli began to applaud as he looked to the area behind the stage where a middle-aged woman stood.

“Come up here, Journeyman Marion!”

Beaming and blushing, she did so and gave the salute to the frenzied crowd.

“Journeyman Marion is one of the best. Don’t we love her? Who’s been trained by Journeyman Marion? Let’s see it! Look at all those hands. Look at them! I picked her, you know. I saw her, talked to her for three minutes, only three minutes. And I knew she was a born Journeyman and trainer.”