Known Afterlife (The Provider Trilogy, Volume One)

by Trey Copeland

  "Aye," Antone said, nodding in agreement.

  "Let's boil the situation down to its essence," Stalling said, leaning forward. "To date, their government sanctioned strategy to obtain complete control of the company has been thwarted due to the very real need for our compliance. Without it, control of the company's assets means little to them if they cannot maintain the Auranet and entrainment platform."

  "I have never put it past them to destroy it all together over letting us continue to leverage both for our own objectives," Antone added.

  "True, but that predictable, desperate move is a non-issue, assuming we complete our final step. The root of it all boils down to this question: How does the latest development change anything? Assuming we are successful in salvaging the project in the coming hours and fulfill its ultimate mission, can any of the information they obtained from Janison be used to stop us between now and then?"

  "The analytical side of me says no. But, my gut tells me Thortizan has a plan, the wheels of which are already in motion."

  Stalling had read Antone's detailed reports on Thortizan. The more Antone knocked heads with Thortizan and his department over the years, the more he became the symbolic face of their adversary. Publicly, his cabinet was responsible for pushing forward any agenda the Church believed was in the divine interest of society, some made public but most not.

  But in all reality, Thortizan was nothing more than a dealer in pain. His job: keep the people of Antium addicted to the illusion of drama. Thortizan, and all his predecessors, perpetuated this paralysis on society over the centuries by promoting and, when necessary, enforcing the Church of Salvation's fixed, "faith" based worldview. His tool was fear of evil that came in many forms: economic instability, Ecifrican uprising, the spread of lethal disease and virus, natural and some not so natural disasters, or imprisonment at Blacadoma Caverns. The means did not matter as long as man remained in competition with his neighbor, "us vs. them", the eternal salvation of the one and only true God the lynchpin sustaining their static institution indefinitely.

  Stalling correctly concluded long ago, negating Drakarle's triopoly of the media, the primary vehicle used to instill and control their orchestrated web of deception for the past two centuries, was the key to creating true reform.

  "It was their hubris that enabled us, right underneath their noses, to construct the very weapon that will lead to their ultimate demise," Stalling reminded Antone. "Despite their recent insight, I believe that handicap of arrogance will continue to prevent them from ever stopping us. It's too late; their day has come and gone."

  Antone nodded in agreement but the brooding look on his face and stiff posture said otherwise. With one act of betrayal, Antone's entire body of work has been undermined, Stalling thought, just now realizing the full implications behind Janison's actions. Not all is lost, but for Antone to prevail, he will have to raise his game to a new level. All of us will.

  "I believe this to be true, because I know Antone Lartisent will not tolerate any other outcome," Stalling added with a genuine smile. The statement professing his confidence in his friend had the effect he had hoped for, penetrating, if only for a moment, Antone's fortified emotional guard, as his friend looked up and returned his own confident smile.

  *****

  Stalling absently noted the car decelerate moments before coming to a gentle stop. Originally, fearful of people perceiving him as a hypocrite, he had balked at the idea of constructing a private rail between his office and home. Had he not made it abundantly clear, repeatedly, the mission of Alterian Enterprises was to provide equal privileges and quality of life for every person on Antium. How could he flaunt such luxury when so many could not even begin to imagine such privilege?

  But it was hard to argue with Antone's reasoning. Propwing, while taking only a few minutes longer, was a security risk just not worth taking anymore. He was relentless in his defense of the expense, stating: "Too many of the Church's adversaries have died in accidents. The statistics are appalling."

  In the end, Stalling deferred to Antone the first of many major decisions he would place in the man's hands, recognizing his instinct as more than just being paranoid. Not to mention, the statistics of lethal accidents for those who had openly, or discreetly, opposed any facet of the C.O.S. rule for the past century truly was staggering. And for that reason, there were very few, and for those that did, none had gone to the extent of Stalling. No, it did not require any stretch of the imagination for Stalling at the time, nor now, to see how his accidental death would be an ideal solution for the C.O.S.

  The private magnarail cost millions to construct, a paltry sum for one of Drakarle's wealthier houses. The prospect of getting more out each day appeased the philanthropist in Stalling and helped him align the expense with his ultimate objective. He reminded himself daily that the day will soon follow where everyone can experience the same privilege if so chosen, once the mission is complete.

  But it was not until he and Lorissa hit a major rough patch eight years ago that he discovered the true value in his ability to arrive at his home in sixty seconds. Stalling shivered at the memory, recalling how close he had come to pushing away the most important person in his life. Without Lorissa, none of my vision would be realized.

  A soft hiss filled the air-compressed cabin accompanied by the assured hum of hydraulics as the double doors parted. Stalling stepped onto a granite platform no wider than the car, briskly walked down the short connecting hallway to a door at its end and entered his home.

  His home was built upon and into a two hundred foot high granite cliff facing the Baltif Ocean. Comprised of three levels, excavated entirely from the cliff itself, the magnarail entrance was located on the far east corner of the second level. With fifteen-foot high ceilings, the vast open space tiered off into three living spaces that ascended east to west, marked by two masculine titanium columns dividing the glass paneled north wall.

  Stalling walked over to the large hearth carved into the east wall and turned his back to the fire. As his backside warmed, he looked about the comfortable lower room and allowed the creature comforts to seep in and ease his mind. The light from the fire made the comfortable room even more inviting, a dimmed chandelier centered in the gourmet kitchen located in the far side of the upper west room and some strategically placed recessed lighting along the floors, the only other source of light.

  Denoted as "his room", Stalling had done little in the way of decorating the comfortable den. Lorissa knew what he liked better than he did himself. Sure, the mantle housed a few keepsakes he had collected from his travels over the years. The brass sculpture of two intertwined dragons, resting on the rustic coffee table centered in the room, was his favorite contribution; the debate if in battle to the death or the throws of deep passion, a topic of conversation with guests that never ceased to get old. The rest was all Lorissa: the elegant, hand crafted rugs, furniture, tables and antique lamps, a pleasing blend of brass, rich hardwood and supple leather accented by an array of burgundy, black and beige.

  One of the many talents my gratitude grows for with every passing day, Stalling thought with a smile. He fought the compulsion in that moment to head upstairs to find her. Granted, his time was limited. He had an hour, tops, before he had to get back and prepare. With all that had happened today, and all that had yet to occur, Stalling’s need for Lorissa had never been stronger. Still, he delayed for a few more minutes.

  Honesty was the one component key to the success of his relationship with Lorissa. Honesty with each other was never hard. In fact, the indisputable trust in the other, experienced in their very first encounter, was the foundation they had built a beautiful and meaningful relationship upon for the past twenty-one years. Honesty with himself, that was the substance determining the growth of their relationship. There was no hiding his true, innermost feelings from Lorissa and vice versa. It was when he stopped arguing with her innate ability to read his heart and instead embrace it, that their relationship
truly began to evolve.

  I know enough about myself to recognize this twisting stitch in my chest is the physical byproduct of not being honest. Stalling gazed out the window in attempt to release his mind across the approaching waves reflected in the early moonlight.

  It would be a perfect evening for a sail. Just the two us, bundled up in our fleeces. A bottle of wine, some fresh sashimi....cap the evening cuddled up in front of the fire with a steaming mug of Lorissa's fredikan bark tea. We are long overdue.

  Acknowledging I am not being honest with myself will have to suffice, Stalling concluded as he crossed the room. Lorissa will help me sound out rest.

  He went up the three steps separating the den from the middle room; the dining room more often than not doubled as a conference room. Turning toward the polished granite staircase carved into the middle of the southern wall, he walked parallel to the high back leather chairs placed along the long, twelfth century mahogany table.

  Focused on finding Lorissa, he almost missed the small bucket filled with ice and an assortment of his favorite ales placed at the end of the table. He gauged by the beads of sweat around the bucket and ring of water at the bottom, it had been set out about an hour or so ago. How did she know I would come home?

  He had made the decision only moments ago, forcing a reluctant Antone to take a few minutes to recharge, saying: "We won't be home this weekend and once we complete the final step in our mission, nothing will be the same. Marlene worries about you enough. Give her the peace of mind she needs but more importantly, take a moment to remind yourself why you have made so many sacrifices over the years."

  While the dynamics of their respective relationships were different, the advice he gave Antone was just as applicable to him. Stalling's purpose came into focus the moment Lorissa entered his life. Her impact on his life was a menagerie of intangibles that Stalling stopped trying to label and compartmentalize a long time ago. Their connection spanned countless lifetimes, the details behind the role each played for the other long forgotten and immaterial to the present. What matters, Stalling thought while gazing at the glistening bucket, is the growth of that connection.

  He grabbed a bottle, twisted the cap off, and took a long swig. Never one to imbibe, drawn more to quality over quantity, the protein shake the only meal that afternoon, Stalling’s edge dulled as the cold beverage slid down his throat and coated his empty gut. Feeling the weight of the world a little less, Stalling went up the steps in search of Lorissa.

  Stalling entered the greenhouse and searched for her along the main path dividing the rectangular structure. Stifled by the pervasive humidity, he shed his light sweater and walked down the wide path, looking left to right at each intersecting sub path. Halfway down the acre long enclosure, he paused and peered at the double doors located at the end of the path, wondering if his industrious wife would be out in the arboretum this late in the evening.

  He wiped his brow moist with fresh perspiration and tried not to worry about the potential of losing what little time he had searching for Lorissa in the small forest she so fondly reminded him was an arboretum full of Antium's rarest species of tree, bush and plant. The sudden appreciation for the dramatic change in climate within the greenhouse helped to ease his concerns. It had been a long winter, spring was late in coming and Stalling, his demanding schedule reaching new heights over the past four months, had neglected his need to be one with nature for too long.

  The tropical temperatures generated by the greenhouse stirred his somatic senses, giving rise to lethargic pleasures. Combined with a flux of alien aromas invading his nostrils, along with the strong ale sitting on his empty stomach, Stalling enjoyed the high for what it was.

  The sound of pottery shattering against the fine graveled flooring of the greenhouse, followed by a "Damn it!" coming from the far left just ahead. Trotting up to the next intersection, he looked down the narrow path and found Lorissa at the far end. Her back to him, she squatted on one leg with the other extended to the side as she shoveled top soil with both hands into a small cart.

  Stalling started down the path in haste. As he did so, he watched his wife work, neither concealing nor announcing his approach. Sweat stained her white tank top, spanning the width of her shoulders, tapering down to the small of her back. Snug, cut just above the thigh, khaki shorts smeared with a myriad of dirt shades, accentuated toned legs, shaped by countless hours of similar labor. Having salvaged what top soil she could from the broken pot splayed in multiple pieces along the path at her feet, she stood up, wiped her forehead with the back of her worn glove and studied a set of tall plants to her left.

  Elation at seeing the soft contours of Lorissa’s profile quickly replaced the disappointment in losing his ideal vantage of her attractive backside. Smooth, tawny skin of her exposed chest glistened with sweat. Unruly, shoulder length, brunette curls and bangs extended past almond shaped, hazel eyes and cropped a long oval face, high cheeks and petite nose, all tinged with a healthy ruddiness. Stalling's breath snagged in his throat at the site of her pearl white teeth delicately biting a plump lower lip, bringing forth, with vivid detail, the memory of their first encounter.

  Over twenty years later and I am more attracted to her now then I was then.

  He sighed with delight, louder than he had intended, breaking her concentration on the plants. She turned at the sound, placed fist on hips with a dainty stomp of her right work-boot. "How long have you been there?" she asked with a mock pout.

  "Long enough to see you have been hard at work today," he replied with his own mock disdain.

  She smiled, studying him for a moment. She reads me like an open book, Stalling thought as the intelligent stare probed his heart. "Come help me pot this," she said, grasping the tall branches of one of the plants near its top. Stalling walked over without question and put his arms around the earthy root ball.

  "On three...one, two, three!" Heavier than he anticipated, his under shirt was more brown then white by the time they lifted the plant and placed it in the large, clay pot next to her cart.

  "Thank you honey," she said with a satisfied smile, placing gloved hands on his chest and planting a quick but wet kiss on Stalling's lips.

  "Based off your messages earlier in the day, I wasn't sure if you would make it home today," she said, turning back to the plant, shoveling the recently recovered top soil in the cart on top of newly potted bush.

  "I made the time," he said, upset by the irritation etched in his voice.

  If there was one person who was more driven or passionate about their work then Stalling—and arguably more successful—it was Lorissa. It was a trait that made her both irresistible and insanely frustrating. A world-renowned botanist, Lorissa's research over the past quarter century had led to everything from cures for some of the world's most deadly diseases to the discovery of several renewable natural resources. Indicative by the constant flurry of activity around the greenhouse, arboretum and adjacent lab every day, the waiting list of any up and coming scientist for an internship at Alterian Labs was a mile long.

  Her success has also helped, indirectly at least, at keeping the C.O.S. at bay, Stalling reminded himself as he so often did over the years.

  Driven by the desire to end all human suffering, Alterian Labs had remained a non-profit since its inception. The revolving door of interns, while thoroughly screened by Antone's department, were invariably future employees or servants of the Church or one of its many owned businesses. The work published out of Alterian Labs was free to the world to use and apply as they saw fit. As a result—thanks in large part to A.E.’s Auranet, vast entrainment library and link visor—for every drug or treatment derived from Lorissa's findings and then patented by the Church's for-profit agenda driven health system, an open source, free and easy to acquire counter product would be created by an underground movement that grew exponentially every day.

  "I don't recognize this species," Stalling commented in attempt to pop the pregnant pause. "Working
on another cure with this one?"

  "Actually, no. This is a Rynbios Shrub. It thrives in a small coastal belt, no wider than 100-150 miles, off the southern cape of Matenoise."

  "Interesting," Stalling said, looking up and down the plant with feigned interest. Trying to change the world as we know it, the climax of which is only hours away. Doesn't she know I have bigger concerns on my mind than the origins of some bush!

  She continued with her soil transplant, showing no outward detection of Stalling's false interest in her improvised lecture. "It accounts for half the surface area of the region and 80% of the plant varieties. This one," nodding to the potted bush as she stepped back and brushed her hands on her shorts, "is a vibrant species that grows in the western region."

  "So what makes it so special," Stalling inquired with a hint of genuine interest.

  "Well, for one thing, a new intern of mine—who happens to hail from the region—has created a phenotype of this particular species that is capable of growing in 90% of the world."

  "To what end," Stalling asked, seeing no obvious fruit baring characteristics.

  "Its inherent value is found in the unique plasticity of its strong branches. With the proper engineering and biochemistry applied, these pliable branches could be manipulated to perform many of the functions now used by lumber or even stone and steel."

  "Like the foundation and walls of a house," Stalling surmised.

  "Exactly. You should see the "hut" a group of my interns have created on the outskirts or our arboretum, it’s very habitable," she said with a satisfied smile, admiring her husband's deductive skills.

  She stepped to him, absently flicking a piece of leaf and dried up stem from his shirt before gently placing her hands on his chest. "None of which would have been possible, at least in this lifetime, if it were not for Stalling Alterian."