Paul Kohler - The Borrowed Souls, A Novel

“Silence, silence,” said Earhart. “Mr. Hauser, is this just hearsay, or is this a witnessed event?”

Am I chopped liver? I thought. I’m sitting right here. Can’t you just ask me?

Careful, Jack. If I can hear you, they most likely can hear you as well, Hauser’s words echoed inside my mind.

“Yes, Amelia. Jack witnessed the soul acquisition from Enoch just hours ago. He described the collection chamber precisely: a small copper tube, three inches long. It’s unmistakable.”

“Granted, this is disturbing news about Mr. Gant, but I am not sure it warrants a knee-jerk reaction from the Sentinel,” King said.

“It’s not just Jack’s eyewitness that prompted this gathering,” Hauser said. “I’ve heard from a half a dozen other collectors in the past few months, relaying similar situations where Enoch has attempted to interfere. Fortunately, none of those have developed to the extent of Jack’s latest encounter.”

As a number of the council members broke off into smaller, individual conversations, Hauser and I sat in silence.

“There’s one more thing,” Hauser said, bringing the attention back to us. “Enoch has not only taken these two souls, but he’s also threatened our lives.”

“How so?” Earhart asked.

“Moments before he vanished, he threatened to kill Jack and me with a gun. This all took place just minutes after he shot and killed Jack’s two marks.”

A new round of shocked outbursts filled the room.

“Silence. Silence,” Earhart demanded. Turning back to Hauser, she asked, “Do you expect us to believe that Enoch Gant is capable of murder? To take the word of an inexperienced soul collector trainee?”

“I do,” Hauser said firmly. “If Jack tells me that’s what happened, I believe him completely. Regardless of Jack’s experience level, why would he lie about this? He has nothing to gain from it. Besides, it’s common knowledge that Enoch Gant has been actively pursued by me and by others in the council.”

As isolated conversations ensued, I watched Earhart and Mr. Wizard lean in toward one another, whispering discreetly into each other’s ear. After several moments, Earhart returned order to the gathering.

“Attention please. We’ve all known that Enoch Gant had the potential to be a loose cannon, and this recent incident is further proof of that. However, we feel that this may very well be an isolated incident, and maintaining the status quo is the prudent thing to do.”

What does she mean, status quo? I thought.

Not now, Jack, Hauser thought back.

“Amelia, I don’t think these are isolated incidents,” Hauser said. “Yes, this is the first physical interaction with him, but he’s been tampering with many soul collectors’ minds over the past several months.”

“Then enforcing the current sleep ordinance should alleviate that, Mr. Hauser. None of the soul collectors should be sleeping anyway. That was a directive handed down more than two years ago, but it continues to happen.”

“Sleep aversion is not the answer here,” Hauser said. “It’s just a stopgap. It’s clear that Enoch is getting more brazen by the day and who knows how far he’ll go—”

Earhart nodded her head. “I happen to agree, Mr. Hauser, but we can only react to what we know. And right now all we know for certain is that he’s invaded the dreams—”

“And so much more,” Hauser snapped. “He’s killed two living souls and threatened our lives.”

“He’s allegedly threatened your lives,” Earhart shot back. “I’ve just spoken with Mr. Whitman, who will begin working on a personal protection device. He believes that he should be able to create something that will protect the lives of all our soul collectors.”

“Well, that’s a start. But how long before this device can be ready?” Hauser asked, looking at Whitman.

Whitman did not reply, but just stared at Hauser.

After a long moment of silence, Earhart spoke. “I believe that will conclude our meeting today. Mr. Hauser, I trust that you will relay the council directive, expressing the urgent nature of foregoing sleep to all active soul collectors?”

“Yes, Ms. Earhart—”

“What? That’s it?” I blurted. “I think you’re missing an incredible opportunity here!”

“What exactly do you mean, Mr. Duffy?” Steve Jobs asked impatiently.

“It’s my understanding that none of you know where Enoch is. From what Hauser tells me, he cannot be traced because he no longer possesses a soul box, am I correct?” I said.

A number of council members around the room nodded their heads, a look of irritation on each of their faces.

“He’s obviously honed in on me,” I said. “Isn’t there some way that we can possibly trap him?”

“I don’t think one chance meeting with you would necessarily qualify for him honing in on you,” Jobs snapped.

“That may be, but he has invaded my dreams on virtually every collection that I’ve been assigned. I’m not sure if that’s a regular occurrence or not, but I think that you all should be taking advantage of that somehow. Can’t Mr. Wizard there create some kind of a device that can capture him next time he comes at me, or interferes with my next collection?” I asked.

“What makes you think that Enoch will attempt to interfere with your next collection?” Earhart asked, cutting off Jobs in the meantime.

“Isn’t it obvious? I’ve tried to save the last several souls that I’ve been sent to collect. Quite successfully I might add,” I said, ignoring the gasping outbursts from the council. “And I believe that my doing so has somehow triggered something in Enoch’s mind, driving him to come and physically interact with me.”

The council once again dispersed into individual discussions of shock and surprise at hearing my recent soul collection activities.

“And what gives you the right to save souls?” Churchill demanded. “Explain yourself!”

Be careful, Jack, Hauser thought to me. The high council here does not know everything that has occurred down there.

Terror filled my mind as visions of poking an angry bear filled my mind. A moment later I released my coin.

I leaned back in my chair and looked at Wilson, who had a disapproving look on his face. I momentarily shifted my gaze elsewhere.

“So, obviously, none of this is new to you,” I said.

“No, Jack. If I was present in your memories, I have already experienced this. However, we’re not reliving these memories for my benefit but for yours. You need to figure out where you’ve been to discover where you’re going.”

“Where exactly am I going?” I asked.

“In due time. There is much to be reviewed prior to you learning about your ultimate destination,” Wilson said, continuing to hold my deviating gaze.

I nodded. “I suppose you’re right.” I said. “Tell me, Wilson, why isn’t the Sentinel taking the situation with Enoch Gant more seriously?”

“Trust me, Jack, they are. What you’ve experienced in open council may not show that, but you can take my word for it. Mr. Gant is a high priority.”

“All right. You’ve not steered me wrong so far. It’s just so…”

“Political? There is far more going on behind the curtains of the Sentinel. Between Walt Whitman and Amelia Earhart—”

“That’s who that is? That’s Walt Whitman?”

Wilson smiled. “Not at all what you expected, right?”

“Not in the least. And what is up between him and Hauser? The tension between them seemed pretty severe.”

“Walt and Hauser have a strained history, which dates back to Walt’s father’s death back in 1855. Hauser was there to collect the soul, and somehow, Walt was able to witness the collection.”