Known Afterlife (The Provider Trilogy, Volume One)

by Trey Copeland

  Stalling shuddered, remembering how they lowered him into the narrow shaft, lying flat on his back with arms pinned to his sides as ropes slowly pulled him down feet first. His heart began to race as he recalled the hours it took to complete the descent, alone with his fears and the morbid sound of his breath on the rocks inches from his face. Fear of getting stuck in a three foot wide, over four mile long shaft and dying from his heart exploding with panic; fear of being discovered and forced to live his remaining years in that hell hole; fear of returning empty handed and forced to face the prospect of never realizing his dreams, all of which were so close to materializing.

  The descent and ascent of the shaft had been the most harrowing experiences in his life to date or since. But Stalling believed deep inside that if he could convince Muzar to accept the pivotal role in his vision, it would all be worth it. Muzar is the answer, he would tell himself over and over again, certain the statement would manifest itself as true if he said it enough, if he said it with conviction, if he said it with unbridled gratitude. The thought had become his mantra, the weapon he used to keep his mounting fears at bay, providing clarity when he needed it most.

  And so it was, with that mantra fresh on his heart, Stalling squatted at the edge of the small, mirrored pool that consumed the majority of the cramped space and waited for Muzar to arrive. He waited for several hours, calming his nerves by meditating on the abundant stalactites hanging from the slit ceiling, reflected on the pool by his tiny lamp. Finally, Muzar entered from the small crack leading into the room, an action that required him to turn sideways, crouch down and step like a crab.

  Stalling had stepped forward to greet his old friend and was rebuffed when Muzar turned his back to him, squatted low and said in a harsh whisper: "Quite!" Muzar maintained the position for over five minutes, the silence of the man more smothering to Stalling then the recent hours of isolation, before standing back up and turning around.

  "It is good to see you Muzar," Stalling said softly.

  "Yes, Stalling, it is good to see you as well. You have brought the supplies we requested, yes?"

  "Yes, all that we could muster under the circumstances, Stalling said, gesturing with a hand toward the six, large duffle bags piled on the low ledge near the small hole his men had bore into the room.

  "You have truly done us a great service," Muzar said as he crossed the room and inspected the bags.

  Stalling studied Muzar in that moment. It had been twelve years since he had last seen his friend in person but Muzar looked like he had aged forty. The grainy security camera footage had somewhat prepared Stalling for the shocking changes in the man but now, enclosed in the room together with the dreary iridescence of his pocket lamp shedding light on the finer details, he was forced to stretch his memory in order to recognize anything familiar.

  In order to identify the person in the room as his old friend, Steffor had to recall the subtle traits, relegated in the past as secondary behind his robust personality. Despite the loss of fifty pounds of muscle and the baggy jumpsuit he wore, Muzar still moved with feline grace and purpose, as if every step and gesture were an orchestrated dance.

  But it was the spark in his emerald eyes, shrouded by a wild mane of dark brown locks matted to his forehead and a shaggy beard extending past his neckline that assured Stalling's doubting mind that the man in the room was truly Muzar. It was this enchanting spark, a providential sensuousness, that Stalling recognized in that moment as the source of his conviction, his belief that Muzar was indeed the missing piece.

  Content with his mental inventory of the contents of the bags, Muzar stood up, turned around and acknowledged Stalling’s presence with a nod. "Thank you. The timing of these supplies could not have come at a better time. You have saved thousands."

  "I only wish I could have brought more," Stalling said meekly, wondering how the meager amount of fortified food, water and essential medical supplies could have any kind of significant impact on the situation in Blacadoma.

  "It’s more than anyone else would do, that is all that matters. It was your generous heart that always made me proud to call you my friend," Muzar said as he stepped down and stood before Stalling.

  "You have no idea the peace it brings me to hear you still consider me a friend," Stalling said.

  Muzar's face flashed with a mix of undetectable emotions in response to Stalling's words, before he forced a smile and clasped Stalling's shoulder affectionately. "Come, let us sit by the pool with the remaining time we have and you can tell me the ulterior reason you chose to risk your life to see me."

  They both squatted at the edge of the pool as Muzar ripped open one of the vitamin packed protein bars he had procured from a duffle bag. He took a big bite and Stalling was content to watch Muzar chew in silence for a few moments before speaking again.

  "I came for you."

  "To what end? So that I can spend my remaining days on some deserted, tropical island?" Muzar replied.

  Despite his intentions for Muzar being far from a reclusive hideaway, the detestable tone in his friend's voice startled Stalling. "No, that is not what I came here to propose. But what if it was? Would you accept the offer?"

  Muzar looked at Stalling and allowed a genuine smile to cross his face, releasing a small flash of his remote beauty. He smiled at Stalling for several long seconds, moisture amplifying the loving warmth in the depths of his eyes, before turning his attention back to the placid water.

  "I lived in this hole for months when I first arrived. For the first week or so, I had managed to stay ahead of the mobs bent on my capture but the more I came to terms with my predicament, the more I knew it was only a matter of time before they would catch me. I was approaching that reality, having just mugged a man laden with food and water, tasked with transporting it to one of the many caches controlled by the Ecifricans, and I had been running for hours since without success in losing my pursuers."

  "It was then that I stumbled into the pitch black hallway outside," Muzar paused with a jerk of his head toward the small opening he had used to enter the room. He gulped down the rest of his bar and washed it down with a fresh bottle of water, taking his time to savor both.

  Stalling waited patiently as Muzar absently flicked a few pebbles into the pool, sending small ripples across the tranquil surface. "The darkness forced me to slow down and grope along the wall to my left in order to go forward. In what I now know to be about the mid-point of the dark tunnel, where one loses site of the light coming from either end, my hands came across a crack in the wall just below my waist. At that same moment, I knew I was trapped when I heard the voices of my pursuers coming from both ends of the tunnel. On instinct, driven by a will to live I did not know I possessed until that instant, I lay flat on the ground and pulled myself in."

  Stalling peered over Muzar to study the slit leading into the cave and tried to imagine the then two hundred and fifty pound Muzar squeezing into the tight space. It did not seem possible.

  "If you were here, magically waiting for me in this place at that time so many years ago, I would have left with you in an instant. For at that time, I was a man who still refused to grow; to sacrifice what I was for what I could become, a man who would have gladly lived out his days wallowing in remorse. No remorse over the death of the three men I killed, I knew the moment after the impulsive action took place that I would do it all over again. No, the self-reproach haunting me the remaining days of my life would have stemmed from my willingness to remain ignorant. How my insatiable drive to compete, to reach the highest pinnacle of a simple barbaric game, prevented me from ever seeing the world around me."

  "But the world around you was beautiful," Stalling said. "You cut a wake of love and joy through the world. One could not help but feel better when they were around you. People learned to follow their bliss by your example."

  Muzar shook his head and began to laugh. Laughter not heard since they last escaped to their remote spot on top of the ridge looking down upon
the lush valley they once called home. It was infectious and together, as if seventeen again, they laughed until their bellies ached and tears rolled from the corners of their eyes.

  "Strange," Muzar said, taking a deep breath fluttered with emotion as he regained, while slightly less rigid, his original composure, "how the perspective of another soul can provide a glimpse of your true self when you need it most. For it is you I would have described in such a manner. It was you, the memory of those long nights on Carter's ridge gazing at the stars, solving all the world's problems, which triggered my transformation."

  "Your boundless empathy for those less fortunate; your passionate anger at the flagrant injustices in the world; your belief that, if determined enough, one man could make a significant, meaningful difference; your unwavering faith that everything happens for a reason, a resolve that only intensified after the murder of your parents. I used it all, the raw material molded together to form my new self, the catalyst for my rebirth."

  "Sustained by this tiny spring and the rations I had recently stolen, I lived in this place so long, I lost track of time itself. At first, fear and self-preservation kept me here. As the long hours of darkness mounted, I began to address the voices in my head that dictated my current reality. At first, the fearful child who ran from anything unknown or foreign, then the judgmental influence of adversaries protecting their self-serving perceptions of the world and finally the opinions of respected peers and role models like you. Disconnected from emotion, I listened to the voices, patiently allowing each to exhaust and fade from consciousness. It was then, in the vastness of silence, my desire for change overpowering my fear that I began to visualize a new world in which to live in."

  "What if I told you I came here today to ask you to expand your influence beyond Blacadoma?"

  "Who are you to say I have not already?" Muzar coyly countered Stalling's open-ended question. He is still the same Muzar I grew to love, the only person who truly challenged me. He had counted on Muzar, by this point, not only being aware of the influence he was having on the free world, but also motivated by the knowledge.

  "You misunderstood my question. The reality you have imposed onto Blacadoma seeps into the rest of Antium as we speak. Large groups dedicated to the Stewards of the Law are cropping up everywhere, not just in Drakarle but also in every province, including Ecifrica. For the first time in over two millennia, policy-altering schisms are being formed within the C.O.S. Everything that was once perceived as untouchable is now up for lively debate."

  Muzar nodded with understanding. "It is all the chosen point of intention."

  Stalling studied Muzar for several moments, amazed by and drawn toward the contentment exuding from the man, to the point he had to remind himself of the harsh living conditions of this place. On average, once a week, Muzar took the life of another human being. No doubt, a fierce existence but a welcome dilution compared to the average of killing another human everyday experienced during his first two years in the hellhole known as Blacadoma Caverns. Against all odds, he has managed to improve his plight. Despite his perseverance and bountiful faith, he must know deep inside it will all end poorly, and soon. Stalling decided to take a different tact.

  "Alterian Enterprises has experienced phenomenal growth since last we spoke," he said in a business like tone.

  "That is excellent news," Muzar replied. "I never doubted you would succeed once aligned with a product or service you believed in. So what gift have you bestowed to the world?"

  "Well, assuming we continue to maintain the same patterns of the past three years, we will have accomplished nothing short of completely changing how the world communicates."

  "Interesting. So, have you enhanced the wallscreen or telipad? Or did you focus on the infrastructure and improve the grid? That's it, you have finally expanded the grid into the rural, less affluent provinces."

  "You are close," Stalling said with a smirk, openly admiring his friend's keen mind despite being a little naive. "While my father made his fortune in real estate—just as his father, grandfather and great grandfather had done—Dad used to always say to me and others close to him: Telecommunications is a safer investment than property. Betting on where people will want to live or recreate, while not a blind guess, is a fickle thing with no guarantees. Man's desire to communicate and share information, now that is something you can take to the bank."

  "Sage advice," Muzar replied half heartily. Stalling sensed the other's urgency to return to the life outside the room start to mount.

  "Dad backed those words with actions and by the time he and Mom passed, he was a major stakeholder in both General Technology Company and Drakarle Telecom & Cable Corporation. Soon after we finished school—about the time your pro bladeball career started to take off—I became obsessed with learning everything possible about the industry controlled by the duopoly. Learning the technology behind it all was the easy part. It was the getting my arms around political and bureaucratic bullshit surrounding the industry that was the hardest. But once I did, it became painfully apparent that the Church had no intentions of allowing a third party into the game, at least not using the same technology."

  "I may be dumb to a lot of things Stalling, but even I could have saved you a lot of time and effort."

  "Well, it was not a complete waste of time. Actually, looking back at it, it was time well spent, for if I did not go through the exercise, I may have never imagined the human wireless network."

  "Human...wireless? What the hell are you talking about?"

  Muzar’s intrigued response pleased Stalling. "As I learned more about the industry I concluded early on, if I were ever able to somehow weasel my way in as a third provider, the capital required to lay cable was too intensive. So I started to research wireless communications. Imagine having all the video and audio features of a telipad, while moving around freely rather than staying fixed in one location. The cable grid would become obsolete.

  "This was not an original idea, the technology, at least in concept, had been around for over two decades. To my dismay, I learned, only because my shareholder status provided access to information others did not, that the incumbents had already received the exclusive rights to develop and maintain future wireless network and supporting equipment. Even worse, they had started the production of both over a decade ago and were simply sitting on the technology. It just wasn't in the interest of either's bottom line to undermine the present and very profitable status quo."

  "So I am guessing you found a loophole, something within the rules of the dysfunctional game that got you in." Muzar said, enjoying his recollection of Stalling's persistent intellect.

  "I did, but the source of the idea did not come from any preexisting technology. It came from a project I had started five years prior that, originally, I did not foresee providing a solution to my commercial endeavors to break into the telecommunications industry. The intention of the project was to provide a deeper insight into how the human mind operates."

  "OK, I'll bite, why are you studying the brain?"

  "The plasticity of the human brain is inherently designed to evolve. It never stops reconstructing itself from our continual pipeline of experiences to create a predictable memory system. This memory system, or conditioned sequence of patterns, is what I believe each person uses to project his or her personal version of the Universe." Stalling turned from the spring to look at Muzar and gauged if the other was tracking with his attempt to explain his controversial experiment in layman's terms. Muzar met his eye with an intensity he was uncertain how to read. No turning back now, Stalling had thought, full disclosure is the only way. He must make an informed decision on his own.

  "To put it in simple terms, each mind writes, produces and listens to its own symphony. Beautiful, magical mathematical equations created in response to the desire our shared Universe has to observe its own reflection. Diversity amongst all of us is the key to our universal growth. The more each mind awakens to its potential the fa
ster we grow as a whole. Conversely, every detrimental practice imposed on our collective psyche by a culture whose only interest is in its ongoing replication, taints the well of consciousness and prohibits any meaningful growth. Do you understand?"

  "I understand Stalling. You have never been content to rely on faith alone, no matter how tangible the accumulated evidence. Your joy of life is found in the elusive balance between the realist in you that requires the quantifiable and the mystic in you that cannot deny the existence of realities beyond human comprehension."

  "Fair enough. But you need to take your understanding of who I am one step further and fold in my commitment to stay equally active to both sides; in my unwavering belief that, if aligned with a cause bigger than myself, my continual activity will yield results for both sides. What I have taken the long road in telling you, is that I have discovered that balance, a way to keep one foot in each dimension. A way to rid ourselves of our suffocating society and usher in a new one built on the foundation of equality and love."

  The bromidic tone of his own voice irritated Stalling but he was pleased to see that Muzar's body had relaxed in response to the sermon. "So what exactly are you proposing?" Muzar cautiously inquired. "Forcibly imposing your views and beliefs on the world? How does that make you any different?"

  "It doesn't and that is not my objective. My only desire is create a beacon of hope for all life, a light that cannot be extinguished by the hands of man or any other material force."

  "I share that desire and have come to believe it can be attained. Maybe not in my lifetime but if I can help spark that light then this lifetime has not been wasted."

  "What you have done here over the past four years has sparked that light but I fear it is a light that man can and will extinguish, sooner rather than later."

  "How do you know this? Can you see into the future? All that matters is the present now and that which we have control, in how we choose to perceive the world around us."