Edgar Aeternum, Book 1: Tales of Aeternal Love

by Jay Belle Isle

  He reached into his back pocket and pulled out an old-style switchblade, flipping it open with skill even Evans had to appreciate. Campbell's eyes went wide with surprise, but she quickly recovered. "Big bad rich boy! So you can slap me around, but you don't have the balls to play in my league," she said and spat at Edgar's feet.

  Evans, meanwhile, leaned back against a support beam watching Edgar with curiosity and newfound admiration.

  Edgar moved closer to Campbell, ignoring the wad of sputum on his shoe. He grabbed the woman's hair and jerked her head back so she had to look him in the face. "Well, aren't you just the fucking special snowflake? You don't know how wrong you are, but you're about to find out." With that comment, he made a fast move with the blade and Campbell screamed as the tip of her nose hit the floor.

  "Surprised, bitch?" he hissed. "Bet you don't like it on the other end, do you?" She stopped screaming, but otherwise didn't answer. "I asked you a question," Edgar said. "You don't like it, do you?" and he grabbed her bleeding nose with his free hand and squeezed hard. Her shrieks echoed off the walls and Evans stood straight, hands behind his back, unable to take his eyes off the scene unfolding before him.

  Edgar released her nose only to punch her, full force, in the face. Her head snapped back and her eyes rolled back briefly. "Tell me, did it feel good when you hurt Maddox? Oh, still not talking? No worries; I really only need you to listen. And eventually die." The blade flashed so fast Evans almost missed it and Campbell again fell to fits of shrieking. Edgar turned from her to Evans and held up the knife, the woman's left eyeball impaled on its tip. "Still think I'm an amateur?" he asked the man. Then he turned back to Campbell, who was once again in control of herself. "And you? Still think I don't have the balls to waste you?"

  Her response came in the form of another well-aimed lugey, this one mixed with blood, which landed on Edgar's other shoe. Evans' reply was more dignified as he said, "Well, my boy. It seems I grossly misjudged your abilities. It won't happen again."

  "I'm only warming up," Edgar said. "You might want to pull up a chair; this is going to take a while," Edgar said, turning back to Campbell. Fear shone in her eye for the first time and he began creating his own work of art.

  An hour later, Evans did pull up a chair as Edgar was still working. Evans reevaluated his opinion of Edgar for the eighth time as the man took a stim injector from his pocket and shot Campbell full of enough stimulants to keep her conscious even though her face now closely resembled a poorly-carved jack o'lantern. Coagulant spray prevented the woman from bleeding out. Edgar didn't seem to tire, either of his work or of berating the now-tongueless Mariposa Campbell.

  At hour two, not even the stim could keep Campbell conscious; even to Evans, no stranger to cruelty, she looked more like a side of beef than a human being. Realizing she could no long be made to suffer for her crimes, Edgar slit her throat with a move so smooth, Evans knew it wasn't the first time he'd used it. The blood spurted freely and, without ceremony, Mariposa Campbell shuffled off the mortal coil.

  Edgar leaned against the beam opposite Evans' chair and looked at the barrister. The respect in the man's eyes was unmistakable. Evans spoke first. "Edgar, I stand corrected. I owe you an apology for underestimating you. Most of my clients talk a good game, but when it comes down to it, they're nothing more than talk. I'm sorry. I don't know how you came by such... skill and I won't ask. Perhaps, as you put it, we'll share stories someday. I'm not an easy man to impress, but look at you: Covered in blood and after two hours, you're not even breathing hard. From one professional to another, you've earned my respect."

  "Thanks, Evans," Edgar responded. "After a while, you just do what you have to do. What I have to do now, though, is wash Campbell off of myself. For what's it's worth, I'm damned impressed with you, too, and you definitely have my respect."

  "Thank you," said the barrister. "There's a fully-stocked shower through that door," he gestured at the opposite wall. "You'll also find a change of clothing, in your size, on the dresser." He shrugged his shoulders at Edgar's blank look. "What can I say? I didn't expect you to do your own dirty work, but I came prepared in case you surprised me. Now, go clean up. I'll take care of this mess," he nodded in Campbell's direction.

  Edgar shook his head, smiling and walked toward the shower. Mid-way there, he stopped and turned to Evans, still seated. "I guess the only thing left is to move on," he said, sadness in his voice. "It's probably for the best. Maddi said he couldn't handle my disrespect for life; maybe he's right. Maybe I'm as much a monster as she was; in any case, he's better off without me." He turned away and entered the shower room.

  Evans stood, stretching. He smiled and said to himself, "We'll see, my boy, we'll see."

  CHAPTER 27

  Five-fifteen P.M.

  When Edgar emerged from his shower, dressed in fresh navy slacks, a white Oxford, blue argyle socks and black Italian loafers, he was shocked to find the room spotless, Evans waiting for him.

  "I must say," the barrister commented, "that's a big improvement. It most likely feels better too, I'd wager."

  "Indeed, it does," said Edgar. "Thank you for being so prepared. How did you get the mess out here cleaned up so fast?"

  "Fast?" Evans laughed. "You've been in the shower for forty-five minutes, Edgar. I was done ten minutes ago. This is not, as you would say, my first rodeo."

  Edgar clapped him on the back and laughed. "You're always a surprise, my friend. One of these days, I'll have to teach you an old dance called the Macarena. I'd love to see you do it."

  Evans fixed Edgar with an icy look and raised one eyebrow. "Not likely, my friend. I'd sooner die." Then he smiled and burst out laughing. "Come, let's get out of here."

  "Where's the body?" asked Edgar.

  "Allow me some mystery, my boy. Now, move it," he said and headed for the door.

  The pair sat in silence as Evans' private transport took them back toward the city. Finally, Edgar spoke up. "Hey, Evans! We're passing all the magna stations and you're going the wrong direction if you're taking me back to Altair."

  Evans looked over and answered, "I'm aware," before turning back to gaze out the window.

  "Do you mind letting me know where we're going then?"

  "Not at all. We're headed to Arandia. Your Maddox should be done with the mind-creeper by now and I'm sure he'd like to see you," Evans replied.

  "What the... Evans! Turn this transport around, now! You know I can't see Maddi. I just butchered his kidnapper, personally, and he was pissed when he learned I sent my other stalkers offworld. Shit, he left me when he found out I'd paid someone to dispose of a few of them. What do you think he's gonna do when he finds out about this afternoon? I can't lie to him. That's not an option."

  "Calm down, Edgar," Evans said, as though talking to an hysterical child. "I understand the Andro code and wouldn't dream of asking you to violate it by lying to Maddox. However, just as we underestimated each other, I believe you underestimated him."

  "What are you talking about?" asked Edgar. "He made his feelings unmistakably clear!"

  "Yes, I imagine he did. People change, though; most of my clients, as I said, are all for exacting their own vengeance. Until they actually hold the weapon in their hand; then, it's clear it's all puffery. Just the same as a sworn pacifist might have a change of heart when subjected to violence himself."

  "Evans, if you have a point, I'd appreciate you making it," Edgar said. "Things are good between the two of us again, but I'm not in the mood to play games with this particular topic."

  "Relax, my boy. You'll never live to see thirty if you don't learn how," Evans replied. "You were so intent on revenge that I decided to let you have it before giving you the last piece of the story." Edgar opened his mouth to comment and Evans put up a silencing hand. "Just before we took Maddox from Ridgely's home, we gave him some morphine for his pain." Edgar stared at Evans, hanging on his every word.

  "He stopped the medic on the way out of the room to gi
ve me a message before passing out. It was for you, Edgar. He said, and I quote, 'Tell Edgar I said to put this bitch down,' end quote. Not exactly what you'd expect from a confirmed pacifist who despises his boyfriend's disrespect for life, is it?"

  Edgar couldn't reply. He was caught between laughter and tears at the sheer joy of knowing that Maddi wasn't gone from his life for good. Evans, allowing his surrogate son a moment of privacy, tapped the comm and ordered the driver, "Pour on more speed, my good man! Traffic authorities be damned, get us to Arandia now!"

  CHAPTER 28

  Edgar had regained his composure by the time the transport arrived at Arandia twenty minutes later. He was tapping his knees with his hands, smiling, like an impatient child awaiting a birthday gift. Evans thought for a moment that he'd jump out of the transport before it came to a complete stop.

  "Just a moment, Edgar," Evans said. "He's not going anywhere, you know. Besides, we need to get the report from the attending physician first."

  "I know, Evans," Edgar replied, ceasing his drumming. "Thank you again for everything. I'm just excited to see him!"

  "Understood," Evans replied. "Don't thank me for his change of heart, though. I told you, he's an extraordinary young man. Quite a worthy mate, if I may say so," he looked pointedly at Edgar.

  Edgar laughed. "You're always after me to settle down, aren't you? It's too soon to tell, but if he'll have me, I'm his."

  "Hmph!" Evans snorted. "I guess love really is blind, after all. You two are so well-suited, I'd swear you were destined for each other, if such existed. You'll both come around, I think, and I look forward to the celebration of your bonding."

  Edgar actually blushed, a rarity for him. "If I'm so lucky someday, you'll be the first name on the guest list," he paused, "Dad."

  If looks could wound, Arandia would have had a new patient. "We shan't speak of that lapse in my professionalism again. That you know how I feel is quite enough without overly-expressive gestures," Evans replied to Edgar's jibe. At that moment, the transport came to a stop. Just before Evan turned to exit, Edgar could have sworn he'd seen a smile on the man's face.

  They checked in at Reception and, a short elevator ride later, were seated in a consult room across from Maddi's attending physician. The shock of white hair in her otherwise raven coif reminded Edgar of Rogue from the X-Men, a thought he knew he couldn't share since no one would know what he meant. Her manner was friendly as she briefed them on Maddi's condition.

  "Mr. Bristow is in very good health, gentlemen," she said. "When Mr. Evans brought him to us, Mr. Aeternum, he was, frankly, a mess." She shook her head and continued, "He's well-hydrated, non-concussed - though he had quite a bump on the head, and his knees..." she stopped. It was clear she wanted to comment on his captor, but all Arandia's staff knew better than to provide personal opinions with their high-profile clientele.

  "Surgery was successful; we did a bilateral knee reconstruction, including soft tissue regeneration. He'll be sore for a couple weeks or so, but he has low-grade pain meds for that. He's confined to bed rest," at this, she looked at Edgar, "and I mean rest, for three days, after which he should limit activity to small walks around home. Which brings up the question: Where will he be convalescing? It should be somewhere he's not alone."

  "He'll stay at my place," Edgar answered. "His roommates are often gone, but I work from my home. He won't be alone, Dr. Eldritch."

  "Excellent," she replied. "That's the physical report. Mr. Bristow also suffered significant psychological trauma. Our psy staff is top-notch and one of the best of them spent several hours with him this afternoon. He wasn't too fond of the idea; apparently, he'd been mistreated by a most unethical psy'er as a child. However, when he'd fully recovered from the anesthesia post-surgery, it was obvious he was in shock. During a crisis, the human mind often delays such responses until the crisis is over, at which point the emotional response to the crisis hits like a bolt of lightning. Often with just as much damage"

  The two men nodded understanding and Dr. Eldritch continued. "We felt, given the level of his trauma, that psy-treatment was necessary. Conventional therapy and processing would have taken years with that level of trauma. There is no point in needless suffering. Despite his reluctance, he responded quite well to the treatment."

  Edgar was doing his best to hide his discomfort at the thought of a psy'er poking around in Maddi's thoughts, given what he'd shared before Maddi left. The doctor seemed unaware, but Evans picked up on it and commented. "Not to worry, Edgar. No one here is going to share the information learned from Maddi's psy-treatment." Edgar looked concerned that Evans had broached the topic in front of the doctor.

  Dr. Eldritch jumped in, "Mr. Evans is correct, Mr. Aeternum. We at Arandia are unconcerned with the intimate details of our patients' lives as well as that of their loved ones. Whatever secrets you've shared with Mr. Bristow, even those of an illegal nature, will remain so. There is no danger of leaks to press or Security; our staff is well-compensated so blackmail is not a concern either." Edgar visibly relaxed and the doctor continued.

  "As you may know, psy-treatment rapidly accelerates normal human emotional and psychological healing. You'll find Mr. Bristow is no longer in shock, nor is he particularly traumatized by events. He remembers everything vividly, of course, but it's as though they are distant memories. The only thing the psy'er thought was needed for complete healing is knowledge of what happened to his captor. I trust you gentlemen have that information?"

  "Indeed we do," this time it was Evans who answered. "I believe it best that such comes from Mr. Aeternum."

  "The psy'er is in agreement," Dr. Eldritch said. "Depending upon how Mr. Bristow reacts to that information, he may or may not need further treatment. Other than that, I've nothing else to report. Do either of you have any questions?"

  "None here," Evans answered, looking to Edgar.

  "Only about payment," Edgar said.

  "Not to worry, Mr. Aeternum," she said. "That has been taken care of already."

  "Then I'm good," Edgar said with a smile. "Can we see him now?"

  "By all means," Dr. Eldritch said, returning his smile. "He's in room 402. Take a right out of this room; it's at the end of the hall on the left. If you need anything, call the nurse; if he can't help you, he'll page me."

  "Thank you, Dr. Eldritch," Edgar said, standing and extending his hand.

  "You're most welcome, Mr. Aeternum," she said, shaking his hand. She looked to Evans, also standing now. "Good to see you, Mr. Evans; though I wish it'd been under better circumstances."

  Evans shook her hand and replied, "Always, Dr. Eldritch."

  The trio left the consult room, the doctor going left, while Evans and Edgar headed right. Edgar looked at Evans and said, "Someone likes you."

  Evans chuckled, "I'm not unaware. However, such things don't tend to work out well for me, as you now know. It would be rude not to be a gentleman about it, though."

  "Umm-hmm. You're sure you don't like her just a bit?" he asked, waggling his eyebrows.

  "Quit being a cheeky bastard and go see your boyfriend!" Evans said. Despite his surly tone, the man was grinning broadly.

  "You're not coming?" Edgar asked.

  "My boy," Evans replied, "I may not do well in relationships, but I do know enough not to be the third wheel. You don't need me for this part; I'm going to the cafeteria for some tea. Call me when you're ready to leave."

  "You got it, Evans," Edgar said, clapping his friend on the back. Evans nodded and turned away, heading for the elevators. Edgar took a deep breath, released it and headed toward whatever destiny awaited him in room 402.

  Edgar was relieved to find that 402 was a private room; not needing hospitals himself, he wasn't aware that all Arandia's rooms were private. He stood at the edge of the doorway for a moment watching Maddi. The younger man was engrossed in something on his padd and didn't notice his observer. The hospital staff had been so thorough in their work that, to Edgar, it looked as though
Maddi was merely reading in bed after a long day at school. There were no visible bruises or marks and he looked recently showered.

  Edgar stepped into the room and cleared his throat. Maddi, assuming he was a porter come to pick up his dinner tray, didn't look up from his padd but simply said, "Thanks, it's on the table," and continued reading.

  Edgar said, "Sorry sir, but I don't work here."

  At the sound of Edgar's voice, Maddi dropped the padd in his lap and looked to the doorway. "Edgar!" he exclaimed. "You came! Did you get my message?" Maddi's smile could have lit the dark side of the Moon it was so bright, yet Edgar could see tears welling up in his eyes.

  He came to Maddi's bedside and took his left hand in both of his own. "Yes," he said, "I did." He felt his own tears begin sliding down his cheeks and Maddi joined him.

  The two men stared at each other, lost in emotion, for a few moments more before Maddi snuffled and, voice cracking, said, "Pull up a chair?"

  Edgar squeezed Maddi's hand once before releasing it and taking a seat. Once he sat, he took Maddi's hand again. "Evans, the man who led the rescue mission, gave it to me about an hour ago. That's why I'm here, Maddi." He looked down at the floor. "Campbell - Jarvis to you - has been handled. I did it myself; trust me, she paid for what she did to you. She paid with her life."

  "Good," Maddi said, his steely tone causing Edgar to look up in surprise. "The fucking bitch deserved it. I hope she suffered a lot before she croaked."

  Edgar stared at Maddi, shocked at the young man's ruthlessness. He finally answered, "She did. I carved her up like a roasted chicken, Maddi. I did terrible things to her before I slit her throat. I was convinced you were right about me and how I treated others; convinced that you'd be better off with me out of your life. That's when Evans told me what you said."