9 Tales From Elsewhere 9

by 9 Tales From Elsewhere

  A light encircled me and for the first time since I'd started through the maze, the grief and the fear that had become bedfellows on the journey, fled from my form. I felt whole, unbroken, the wounds vanishing, leaving my body as quickly as they'd come. I wrapped my arms around my chest, embracing the comfort only to have it vanish leaving me in the darkness once again.

  "Your traveler gifts are returned to you. Go forth and retrieve the metronome. But heed my warning; stay your course, and know, we will always be watching." The keeper pointed ahead, the blue glow illuminating the labyrinth just enough now. The desire to look back, to gaze upon the creature was overwhelming. I licked my lips, swallowing any words or hesitation and moved forward.

  The keeper had said I was worthy, and I knew, no more words would come. Questions sprang forth, prodding my mind but I doubted it wise to keep his attention any longer than necessary. They would always be behind me, watching my every move, holding me accountable for even the slightest misstep. The idea was both frightening and compelling.

  I rounded a corner and exhaled. In the center of the maze stood a stone pillar and upon it, the metronome as promised. The pendulum swung back and forth slowly, the weight falling with a dull thunk every second. As I approached, tears broke free and streaked the blood and dirt on my face. All the hesitation, every slowed careful movement, had gone. My body became loose, and I raced forward, reaching with every muscle burning in anticipation.

  The warmth of the metronome enveloped me, swaddled me like an infant and the labyrinth went out of sight, just like the stars had before it.

  THE END.

  CHOOSING WISELY by Shawn P. Madison

  Pamlico Taran walked slowly through the darkness at the heart of Cazara Center’s Profits Park. The hustle and bustle of the surrounding city reached his ears as a low thrum but his mind was too busy focusing on something else to pay it much attention.

  This park, in the very center of the metropolis long known as Glitter City, was quiet tonight, very much so. Just the way he liked it. No foot traffic, no extra sets of eyes, no unexpected witnesses to his pending meet.

  He had walked this same path many times in the past, most times at this same late hour of the night. The air was cool, unusually so for Cazara Center, but not cold enough to cause discomfort. The steady drone of the aircars hustling to and fro in the distance was but one part of the thrum of background noise his mind was picking up. Luckily, Profits Park was considered a no-fly zone which meant an even fewer number of possible impromptu spies to be avoided.

  Many a night he walked this path with no other agenda in mind but to enjoy a relaxing stroll through this most peaceful area of Glitter City. Over the past several months, he had learned to love these strolls and the time that they afforded his busy mind to think through the business that filled his days.

  Taran’s position as number-two man in the Universal Corporate Council was cemented several years ago when a crazy band of terrorists had assassinated Clark Von Neuton, another high-ranking CouncilMember, thus throwing the entire organization into a political upheaval. Once the dust settled and a new President had been sworn in, Taran’s dozen or so e-years of despicable butt-kissing had won him his highest post to date, a mere step away from running the whole show in the U.C.C.

  Ever since, he had been using his newfound power to influence many a serious issue in the Universal Corporate Council, sway many a vote among its members and to win the respect and envy of many an InterGridactic Trillionaire. All of this resulted in a lot more business for PamliCorp, the financial juggernaut that Taran just happened to own a majority interest in.

  A cool breeze blew through Taran’s thick brown hair, rippling the bottom of his long black overcoat and sending some unsettling chills down his spine. His destination for tonight’s walk came into view, down a bit further, in a small valley formed between two grassy hills. The park lights provided soft illumination on the pathway every fifteen meters or so and the point where he would leave the path in that valley fell in one of the darker segments.

  Taran stopped for a moment along the path, surveyed the immediate area and decided very quickly that this segment of Profits Park was quite definitely empty. He saw nothing at the bottom of that valley, could make out only a few unidentifiable and formless shadows within the deeper darkness filling the space, but he knew that the person he was scheduled to meet was already waiting.

  His firm belief of earlier this afternoon that nothing this man might say could persuade him to accept any kind of deal still lurked there, at the back of Taran’s mind. However, as the day had worn on, his brain had been mulling over the endless possibilities of what might be offered, the new avenues of revenue flow, the ‘sure thing’ that such a merger might result in. And, for now, he had come to the decision that it might be worth it to, at the very least, listen to what the man had to say.

  If only for courtesy’s sake, of course. The mysterious man had sought him out personally, had asked to speak to Pamlico Taran, second in command of the Universal Corporate Council. He would be foolish indeed to turn down such an invitation.

  His legs again carried him forward, toward that small valley along the path, lying in the darkness of Profits Park. With one last look around his shoulder, back along the path, he ducked into the shrubs and small trees and out of sight of any would-be onlookers.

  As his eyes adjusted to the darkness and his heart began to pick up the pace a bit, he noticed one man, dressed in black, leaning up against a tree. The man was alone. He wasn’t tall, but what he lacked in height he more than made up for in thickness. Although a large black jacket covered his arms and chest, Taran could tell that this was a man of considerable strength.

  “So, we meet,” Taran said in barely a whisper. “As you requested.”

  “Yes, it was good of you to come, Councilman,” the voice came low from the darkness, the form of the man against the tree remained unmoving.

  Taran looked around for several seconds with wild eyes, willing himself to gain control but finding a strong sense of panic arising nevertheless.

  “Easy, easy, Mr. Taran,” that voice again. “I can see that you’re nervous. Please, don’t be. My men have this park staked out from here to all four entrances. Nobody is here that can land you in trouble. There are no witnesses and if, by chance someone does come near, we will have plenty of advance warning and time to drift back to even darker recesses of this place.”

  Taran nodded and swallowed the lump in his throat. “Of course, I know that,” he spat, not knowing how to proceed with such a meeting. Pulling off strong-arm business deals and upper-level political maneuverings in dance halls and restaurants and business meetings were things he understood well and excelled at. But, clandestine meetings in dark parks at the very heart of Cazara Center? This was one thing he had no experience in.

  “Well, then, let’s get to it,” Taran managed. “What exactly did you want to…discuss?”

  “Ah, right to the heart of the matter,” the voice said and was followed by a small laugh. “In classic Pamlico Taran style, I like that.”

  “Go on.”

  “Yes, I suppose I should,” his lone companion said and moved slightly so that one small beam of light from a faraway lamp post fell squarely on his eyes through the trees and shrubs of their meeting place. “I have to say that I am honored by your agreement to meet me here.”

  “I try to keep whatever appointments I feel are worthy,” Taran said. “No matter their location.”

  “A quality that I have long admired in you, Councilman,” his companion said. “So, to business, then?”

  “Yes, please.”

  “All right, I would like to explain something to you. Something that even you, in your lofty position, may not know about despite the huge wave of publicity it will assuredly generate once exposed to the people of the Known-Grids.”

  “Sounds interesting,” Taran said, leaning against a nearby tree as he felt his heart begin to slow. He was settling down now
that business was underway and very relieved for it. “Continue.”

  “The people I represent have been given an insider opportunity to invest in a brand new pharmaceutical, one that has the potential to produce an enormous stream of revenue the likes of which have never been seen in any of the four Corporate Grid-Sectors—combined. Of course, this drug has not yet hit the market. You follow?”

  “I think so,” Taran said. “Go on.”

  “This drug is currently being mass produced by a very small and little known venture, a minor subsidiary of one of the more prestigious pharmaceutical companies in the U.E.N. I will not give you the name of either at this time for reasons of security. Let’s just say that the initial tests have shown amazing results, in both laboratory and…human specimens.”

  Taran arched one eyebrow, although it was too dark where he was standing for his companion to see. “Sounds interesting so far.”

  “Good, I was hoping that it would,” the man said. “Further testing will, no doubt, show the Known-Grids how very beneficial this drug would be to the masses. It would launch the small manufacturing venture, and the parent organization, to the forefront of modern medicine. It would mean uncountable trillions of InterGridactic Dollars for everyone involved…everyone.”

  “Somehow, I feel that this entire thing is somewhat on the illegal side of the fence,” Taran said and he saw a slight nodding come from the shadowy figure less than two meters away.

  “Somewhat…for now,” the man said. “But, that is precisely what this little meeting of ours is trying to fix.”

  “Of course,” Taran sneered.

  “With your, shall we say, assistance, we are hoping that certain governmental requirements and regulations can be bypassed for the greater good of the citizens of the United Earthian Nations,” the man continued. “You see, this drug has shown, through an already exhaustive testing phase, to be a cure for most of humanity’s major illnesses. It eats up cancer cells at no risk to the sufferer. It rewrites faulty genetic coding. It provides the necessary building blocks for the regeneration of damaged organs. And that is just the tip of the proverbial iceberg. The list goes on and on but, as you have heard, the benefits of this wonder drug will be of enormous consequences to the people of our race.”

  Taran tilted his head in confusion, trying to make sense of what he was hearing and discover where he fell into place within the overall scheme. “So, where do I fit into your plans, sir?”

  “I was just getting to that, Mr. Taran,” the man said. “There is a slight problem, an unforeseen circumstance that has made itself clear over the latest testing phase. A very small problem when looking at the big picture but…a problem, nevertheless. One that we are hoping you can help us to fix.”

  “I have no medical expertise, nor do the various corporations that I…”

  “No, no, you misunderstand, Mr. Taran,” the voice said, dropping to a low whisper. “We are not looking for your financial backing or for the resources available at one of your business interests. We need help of a different sort.”

  Taran hesitated, feeling the urge to walk away right now before the dollar signs that were dancing through his head could take over. But something stalled that urge. “What exactly?”

  “You see, Councilman, this drug of ours works extremely well in the great majority of cases. In fact, it does its job with no ill effects in nearly one hundred percent of all research subjects—both animal and human.”

  “Has human based research been approved by the…”

  “That’s where you come in, Mr. Taran,” the voice in the darkness cut him off. “The organization that has been manufacturing the drug in large supply, in the certainty that final approval by the government would be swift, has now hit a glitch. It seems that the side effects of the drug have caused some…major issues in approximately one out of every hundred thousand test subjects.”

  “Wait a minute,” Taran said. “To arrive at such research figures you would have had to already perform testing on millions of subjects.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “And all without government approval?”

  “So far,” the man said and continued. “But, I think you would agree, for all the good that this drug does, one out of every hundred thousand recipients is not a harsh price to pay for the overall benefits to humanity.”

  “That’s ten per million,” Taran said, doing some quick calculations in his head. “What exactly are the…issues?”

  The silence that ensued was thick and heavy, despite the fact that it lasted less than three seconds. “Death. Instantaneous.”

  “My God…” Taran gasped and shifted uncomfortably from his position against the tree. “You mean to say…”

  “Yes, for some reason, approximately one out of every hundred thousand recipients of the drug in question drops dead within milliseconds of placing the pill upon their tongues,” his companion said. “We don’t know why. We don’t know how. But, the fact that this drug can provide immeasurable relief from so many debilitating diseases that have afflicted humanity since the dawn of time should be enough to negate the drawbacks.”

  “Drawbacks?” Taran snorted. “You say that word so effortlessly when what you’re truly saying is that this drug of yours will kill ten out of every million people who take it during their very first treatment.”

  “Yes, for most colonized planets in the U.E.N., this works out to be about one hundred deaths for every ten million patients successfully treated each decade,” the man said. “These figures were derived by averaging out the populations of most colonized planets currently within U.E.N. jurisdiction and pitting that number against the number of deaths due to major diseases that can be counted among those populations, per million, each e-year. We feel these to be very acceptable losses.”

  “The InterGridactic Pharmaceutical Advisory Board will never approve such a drug, despite whatever sparkling rehabilitative powers your research might show,” Taran countered.

  “Not if a little persuasion by the Universal Corporate Council were to come into play.”

  “Ah,” Taran said and smiled. “Now I understand.”

  “I thought that you would.”

  Taran stepped away from the tree and took a step closer to the man in the shadows. “You expect me to try and convince my fellow members of the Universal Corporate Council to pressure the U.E.N. Pharmaceutical Advisory Board to approve this drug ahead of schedule so that millions upon millions of U.E.N. citizens can reap the immediate benefits and, thus, live longer and more productive lives while contributing more revenue into the economy of all four Corporate Grid-Sectors.”

  Taran was close enough now to somewhat make out the features of the man he was speaking to. The man smiled, nodded once and said, “Precisely.”

  “What’s in it for me?”

  “Didn’t you hear me say that there would be trillions of InterGridactic Dollars available to all those involved once this drug takes off?”

  “Yes, I heard that,” Taran admitted. “Just how do you expect me to convince the Council to do this? What type of medical research would I have access to that I could use to present something like this to the Council?”

  “Not to worry, Councilman,” the man said. “This is but a preliminary meeting. Just a feeler of sorts, to see if both parties are interested in forming an alliance on this issue.”

  “Meaning what?”

  “Meaning,” the man said and paused but only for a moment. “That, if you agree to help us in this, we will put into action our previously existing plan to leak word of this to the marketplace, leak our research out to the journals and bring down the firestorm of publicity that such an announcement would surely generate among the stars.”

  Taran thought about this for several seconds and then came to an understanding. “I see, once the word is out there, you’re hoping that the people of the Grids, those suffering from horrible diseases, diseases that your drug may cure, and their families will clamor for the right to tak
e that chance…that overwhelming chance to be cured or that ten in a million chance to die.”

  “We are sure that the public outcry for approval and your efforts to persuade the Council to see things our way will sway the Pharmaceutical Advisory Board to make the approval process quick and painless.”

  “So, I see your game,” Taran said. “You’re going to be playing it straight. Not trying to cover up any shortcomings that the drug may have but laying it all out on the line and letting the public take their own risks.”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Very noble of you,” Taran said. “I happen to think that your plan is just a scheme to murder ten out of every million people who take your so-called wonder drug.”

  “You are entitled to your opinion when it’s all said and done, Mr. Taran,” the man said. “But the money that will be made available to you for your assistance in this matter should more than make up for your conscience when you are trying to sleep at night.”

  Taran stepped closer and held back the urge to strike the man. His disgust at this despicable messenger and what he was implying, however true it may be, was beginning to take over his better judgment. “Your drug does sound promising. Why not take it all the way through the research process and get the…kinks…worked out before bringing it to market?”

  “Because of the prime investors and the nature of the business they are in,” the man said. “You see, Councilman, our financial backers are men of little patience. When the issues that we found began to show up, they made it quite clear that the huge amounts of money they were expecting this project to generate very quickly once the drug was approved and made available could not be put off for an e-year or two or the decade that it might take to work out the…kinks, as you put it.”

  “I see,” Taran said, finally understanding who and what he was dealing with here. “Organized crime has found its way into the medical industry at long last.”

  “Oh, Mr. Taran, the syndicate has been involved with medicine for far longer than you think, sir.”