CHAPTER TWENTY
The Pentagon, Washington, December 6, 2308
An old man with intense blue eyes stared at a view screen. His hair was not military styled, but was still kept short, neatly trimmed and manageable. In his younger days, he would have been called dashing by the ladies whom he used to take to the holo-films, but the time spent as a virtual prisoner in this office had taken its toll, and his skin had taken on the pallor of someone who sees limited sunlight.
He had an average build, but if one looked closer, they would see that this man had worked out in the past. There was noticeable definition in his arms and legs, yet the years as a desk-jockey had allowed a bit of sagging around the midsection.
On the desk beside him were binders full of clippings. If one were to look into the binders, they would find articles on the creation of the Letter, the history and statistics involved and how they linked to health concerns, disease, and crime. There were studies into the health trends, the rise and fall of diseases like Cancer, Heart Disease, and Smallpox. One might think that the old man had an interest in biological studies.
In actuality, the old man was well versed in biology, as well as chemistry, physics, and programming in multiple languages. He had spent the bulk of his career watching the Emissary program. He had seen thousands of Emissaries come and go, delivering Letters and staying perfectly within the parameters of the program.
He expertly keyed commands into the terminal, pulling up pieces of information on Emissary Meechan. He knew about Meechan's first Letter. How he had chosen Duty over Family – and what that had done to the young Emissary, how it had allowed him to progress up the ranks, as it were. The old man had watched screens for so long, he couldn't remember any other life. He absently stroked the binder closest to him as his eyes flitted from screen to screen surveying, studying.
Could he be the one? The old man wondered. Has my time finally come? Will I finally be able to rest?
Death's Twilight Page 27
