The door opened, and an old man walked in.
“What the hell?” Thackett said, obviously surprised. “Horace?”
Will remained seated as the others stood.
“Are you well?” Sylvia asked, concerned.
“No,” Horace replied. “But I had to see him.” The old man pointed at Will.
“How did you know we were here?” Thackett asked.
Horace ignored Thackett’s question and approached Will. “It’s all in your hands, lad,” he said, his voice weak and trembling. He held out his hand to shake.
Will stood, walked to Horace, and gently grasped the man’s hand.
Thackett asked again. “How did you know we were here, Horace?”
Horace answered Thackett’s question, but looked at Will. “Landau told me,” he said.
Will flinched and let go of Horace’s hand. “You spoke with him?” It didn’t make sense. Will wasn’t able to communicate with Landau unless he separated. “How?”
“I’m 98,” Horace replied. “I’m dying.”
Will stared at him, confused.
“He is the Shepherd,” Horace said.
Sylvia gasped in recognition of Horace’s words.
Will recalled that Landau had referred to himself as “the Shepherd” in the cemetery.
“Death is the shepherd of mankind,” Horace said. “Does that phrase mean anything to you?”
“No,” Will replied
Sylvia’s face distorted. “It’s written above the entrance to the torture facility at the Nazi base.”
“No matter,” Horace said. “I can’t say more, and I’m on borrowed time.”
“You’re going to die?” Sylvia asked in a meek voice.
Horace nodded. “The reason I came,” he said, looking to Will, “Landau wanted me to deliver a message to you, as payment for my extra few hours of life.”
“Yes?” Will said. His eyes locked in on Horace’s.
“Go to the Nazi base,” Horace said. “You will find answers there – about yourself and, more importantly, about the things to come.”
“There are thousands of books and files,” Daniel said. “It will take years to go through it all.”
Horace continued. “According to Landau, what you are doing now was your purpose from the beginning. You were there, at that base, on July 19th, 1952.”
The words made Will dizzy. “What?” Will asked. “How? What was I doing there?”
“He didn’t say,” Horace replied. “But that date means something to you?”
“Yes,” Will replied. “It means something.”
“My name, Horace, means timekeeper,” Horace said. “And I’m telling you now that the age is ending. I do not know what the new age will bring, but you, William, will determine the future.” Horace coughed and wiped his mouth with a handkerchief. “I’d better be getting back,” he said as he shook everyone’s hands, said goodbye, and left. His journey was at an end.
Sylvia wiped a tear from her cheek. “Why did he ask you those questions?” she asked.
“I’ll explain another time,” Will replied. He looked to Thackett. “I need to sleep.”
Thackett nodded. “I think you’ll like what we’ve set up for you.”
“Secure?” Will asked.
“Yes,” Thackett replied, smiling. “We want you to stay in this building for the night. If you like it, you can stay for good.”
At this point, Will didn’t care if they gave him a cot in a bathroom under a train station. He knew he was exhausted when he could only hold one eyelid open. The right eye always closed first when he was tired. It was closed now.
Thackett led the way.
4
Saturday, 20 June (3:29 a.m. CST)
Will followed Thackett into a room that looked like the penthouse suite of an ultramodern hotel.
“The kitchen is stocked with some basics in case you’re hungry,” Thackett said. “I’ll let you figure out where everything is. Please, don’t leave this room tonight. It will trigger some security responses that we really don’t want to deal with right now.”
Will agreed and Thackett left.
The room was magnificent. It took up the entire southeastern corner of the floor, about thirty stories up. The two outside walls were floor to ceiling windows, and he admired the moonlight beaming in from the southwest, and the stars in the east.
He adjusted the brightness of the recessed ceiling lights, illuminating a large couch facing the south windows. He needed a shower and sleep, but instead he sat down and leaned back, spreading his arms to either side along the back of the couch. The stretch felt good, and he yawned deeply, staring blankly into the night.
Looking back, he realized that he’d spent most of his life looking for purpose. Once one eliminated all of the distractions, responsibilities, desires, and fears, all that was left was a question: Why do we exist? What is our purpose? Where does it all lead?
The answers to those questions were just over the horizon, as they’d been from the beginning, and as they might always be.
Will found the bed, closed his eyes, and dreamt.
About the Author:
Shane Stadler grew up in southern Wisconsin. After graduating from Beloit College (WI) in 1992, he earned a Ph.D. in experimental physics at Tulane University in 1998. He has since worked at numerous government research and defense laboratories, and is currently a professor of physics at Louisiana State University.
EXOSKELETON II: Tympanum Page 43
