Long Live Death: Welcome To The Afterlife

by Mercott, Joshua

  He walked out and I sped up my collection of the papers, followed his tall muscled form out the double doors and banked a right because I had to put these approvals through back-processing. They had to go back into the system of unapproved souls. I was gone ten minutes when something rang in my office. I heard it as soon as I neared the door. I entered to find the room filled with flowers and bouqets from strangers who sent me appreciation, adulation and adoration through a thousand different blooms. So all the new flowers I had seen in fresh vases in other areas of the building must have been from bouquets that couldn’t fit in here. There was a prominent one from the Quadrant Chronicle editors, there was an immense ceiling-to-floor one from the Von Heisens, even a bunch from the Crystal-Bloods especially one from each team in yesterday’s playoff.

  I forced my gaze from the flowers that bescented my office and found the source of the ringing. It was an official cell phone, permitted only for government use. Everyone else had landlines and pagers, because cell phones distracted, they created a useful but irrelevant flow of gossip that King Death just wouldn’t have. If they craved such things, they could log on to the internet for the quota they paid each day. The amount of limited internet usage depended on the kind of jobs they did. For instance, the Von Heisens would get more than eighty-five gigabytes of usage and they had to pay for it everyday, if they wanted to. Once the credit transfers were approved internet was instantly open for the duration of the limit. On the other hand, a plumber or carpenter had a different package deal with a maximum of ten gigabytes. Because bandwidths didn’t have a strong and steady flow in Quadrant City, their distribution had to be strangled and controlled.

  My phone was therefore a costly and important addition to my person and seeing as how I never owned a mobile before I felt priviliged to see it vibrate-ring on my desk. I picked it up, said hello. It was a missed call but the id said ‘The King’. I hurried up. I searched the phone’s contacts until I found ‘The Car’ and ‘The Carriage’. I dialed the carriage. “His Majesty would—” He hung up on me. We weren’t allowed to talk, only to call when royal transport was needed. The driver would cut the call and bring the vehicle to the front of government building alpha. Any specific directions had to take the form of a text message written as one would a telegram. I read these and other notes from a single sheet of printed data that was under the phone.

  I fast-walked to the entrance. The car was nowhere in sight. It was a massive affair with twenty bay geldings pulling an oval carriage crafted to luxury standards and yet I couldn’t spot the behemoth anywhere. Was he yet to arrive? Tradition dictated the King ride to inaugurations not fly over. At least that’s what the sheet said. I double checked. Yep, that’s what it says. I spotted a bright white memo slip stuck to the black onyx pillars that had been erected just this morning. ‘You’re late. I refuse to follow your disgusting example at Lacy’s. Meet me there asap. Recycle this slip. Wear a suit.’ Signed, Death.

  I rushed onto the street. “Mr. Reincarnator! This way, sir! Pick me! Here you are, sir! Come with me, sir!” There were at least fifteen cabbies honking their cars and inviting me to get in. Some of them even left the driver’s seat and held the passenger door open for me. I found one familiar face and instantly made up my mind. “I’m so glad you’re here, Nolan.” The same cabby who was there when I needed him, even now.

  “Always ready to help, sir, it’s my job. I want to say thank you for all you’ve done for us. Congratulations on being the youngest Reincarnator in government and also the first ever to be titled by the Press. ‘Savior of Quadrant City’. Impressive.” He gave an expression to match and I caught some of it in the rear view mirror.

  “I don’t know what to say.”

  He smiled. “Where to, sir?” I told him Lacy’s and he promptly replied with the last words I wanted to hear, “Which branch, sir?”

  “How many are there in the city?”

  “One in every quadrant, sir.”

  “That’s seventy-three branches, Nolan, including the one King Death is inaugurating today. Which one’s opening and where?”

  “I wouldn’t know, sir. Lacy’s is too posh a place for me to afford, I never paid attention to where their eateries stood.”

  “Stop, stop, we need to ask someone.”

  “We can see it on the news, sir. There, the television store.”

  It was an excrutiating four minutes of footage before we finally caught a piece of data we could use. “The Rewtramed quadrant.” Nolan and I spoke at the same time. I got back into the car and he gunned the engine.

  “Stop, stop!” I exclaimed and he put on the brakes. I got out of the hansom, ran to the recycle bin on the side of the road and threw the memo in. I ran back to the cab. “Go!” And off we went. It would be forty-five minutes, almost an hour with traffic, for me to reach my destination. In the middle of my ride, I suddenly remembered. “Stop, stop!” Nolan obliged.

  “Is everything okay, sir?”

  “I need a suit. I have to wear a suit.”

  He got out, helped me out of the car, and followed me to the other side of the road to a suit rental I happened to spot. Herba’s Rentals – suits for all life-forms and ocassions. I stepped through the doors and already someone recognized me. Usually they give that look when I enter joints like these. “Reincarnator Helidon, welcome to Herba’s Rentals.” The life-form was a strange mix of mottled hues and saggy skin. I didn’t know which quadrant I was in. Then again, varied places had varied life-forms working in it.

  “I’d like a suit.”

  “Absolutely, sir. From the human option range... Would that be single-or double-breasted, lounge, dinner, mandarin, zoot, wedding, business, or a tuxedo?”

  “I didn’t know there were that many suits.” I looked flabbergasted. My government-approved suits were in dry cleaning, the one that the Von Heisens gave me was too magnificent for today and in one sentence this life-form made me understand that there was a whole world of suits out there I didn’t know.

  “Might I suggest—?”

  “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to sound hasty but I am actually pressed for time. Please give me something simple, nothing fancy or ornamented in any way. Something good enough for a hotel inauguration. Thank you so much.”

  The suit clerk, Mardo I came to know, set me up in a simple suit-pant-tie-shirt combo. I didn’t have means to a government expense account so there went another chunk of my earnings, which weren’t impressive to begin with. “Thank you, Mardo.” He bowed low. “That’s not necessary. I mean, I appreciate it but, don’t bow. Do you shake hands?” We shook with a smile before I hastened back outside to where Nolan waited patiently to take me to Lacy’s in the Rewtramed Quadrant.

  “Here we are, sir,” he said as he held the door open so I could step out. “Best of luck. Wish you a pleasant evening. I’ll be right here when you get back.”

  “Thanks, Nolan. I’ll be a while. Get something to eat, alright?”

  “Will do, sir.”

  I turned to see the entrance to the hotel. It was a grand affair, their seventy-third branch. There weren’t going to be any more. Purple searchlights sent vertical shafts waving in the air. Floodlights spilt over a red carpet that lined the path from road to revolving door. The building was so tall, at least a hundred floors. At the very top in bright blue LED was ‘Lacy’s’ and under it glowed seven golden stars. Nobody was around, perhaps they’d all gone in. I fast-walked to the entrance, revolved my way inside and sought the events board. I took the elevator to the penthouse, the one hundreth floor, and when the black doors opened I stepped into a thick crowd of people who chatted like there was no tomorrow. Why, even today would never have been, not that I’m boasting.

  “It’s the Reincarnator!” some random idiot shouted and there was pandemonium in the reception room. People crowded me, hotel security poured in from an adjoining room to create a tight cordon around me. All eyes bore into my body, what I wore, what I smelled like, how I walked, how I’d combed my
hair. Cameras flashed and I gave them a soft smile because it was better than a donkey grin or a coroner’s deadpan. People clapped and welcomed me, thanked me, for all I knew worshipped me. I hated it. It was adulation at its blind best. I didn’t save them. The little child did. So many people helped in the process. It wasn’t one person, it’s never one person. There’s always a team, distinct or in the background. How do I tell them this? Some things you just know, because for someone to tell it to you is to court awkwardness.

  I made my way forward. I saw His Majesty the King in the far distance, seated at the chief table with the hotel owner, other executives, head chef and lead singer of the band hired to entertain the guests. He neither smiled nor laughed but his mood was considerably lighter, I could tell. There was an empty seat at the table and I walked to stand before the King to bow my respects. He barely glanced at me but I took his hand gesture to mean ‘sit down’.

  The people quieted in the presence of the King and the ambiance returned to one of calm celebration befitting the high-class nature of this morning’s inaugural ceremony. We spent the better half of the day tasting wines and cheeses, exploring the vast rooftop gardens and enjoying witty repartee. There was another performance by the blues band and it set the mood for lunch. I found His Majesty standing by himself on the roof. The gardens surrounding him were stunning and the fountains were a lesson in sculpting.

  I moved close and bowed. “Your Majesty, I apologize if any of this media attention has come in the way of order. It was never my intention, sire.”

  He stayed silent for the longest time. “On the contrary, Helidon. I am glad you’ve made a name for yourself. I shun fame. All I need from my subjects is respect and obedience to my decrees. Absent that and I can get a tad unsettled. In your case, with your position, having earned the love of Quadrant citizens is an advantageous thing. You can open any door and get any task done.”

  “Not any task, Your Majesty, but I’ll try my best.”

  “Don’t interrupt me.”

  “My apologies, sire.”

  “That still doesn’t change the fact that all these people, including yourself, have to leave. You all need to be reincarnated. Your energies are more concentrated and focused when you are in actual living establishments. As souls, you emit a smaller fraction of universal energy. I suggest you start working on a system to get all these people home. You have justly earned an extended term of office one month before the probabtion meetings commence. I’m sure that in the light of what you did yesterday I will have no choice but to let you stay on as Reincarnator. Now that you have little job insecurity holding you back, I’d like to see results, exponentially more results. You have earned the right to know that by the time we reach the last three months of this year, following Cinderzed...” He waited for me to complete the three names that concluded the solar year of fifteen months.

  “Keranet, Mertumber and Solazion, sire.”

  “By the time we get to those last three months, I want to have at least three-fourth of the population reincarnated as and when we can. Time is plotting against us, Helidon. I’m afraid that’s one political card player whom I never wish to.cross.”

  It was one of our strangest conversations. The wine has dulled my senses so I couldn’t really feel the ominous nature of his tone. The rooftop breeze made me relax even more and the greenery calmed my very soul. The meaning of his words registered but didn’t quite hit me the way he might have expected them to. I bowed when he finished.

  “There is talk of a resistance, Helidon. My associates back inside shared it with me.”

  “Yes, sire.I had learned of it from Boremasta back when I was, er, covertly gathering intel.”

  I wasn’t surprised that King Death’s instincts were keen. He seemed to speak about something and somehow, even though he had nothing to do with influencing it, a connected circumstance would take place. I would later think to myself that an emergency phone alert would have been better. The two of us stood and stared silently across all of Quadrant City, from the rooftop of Lacy’s Hotel. An explosion rocked the area to the far west. Judging by how elevated the mushroom cloud was the building must have been a high-rise. I jerked my head to the King. He was missing. I shot my eyes up and saw that he was already flying to investigate.

  20

  I had finally made it downstairs, the elevator filled with panicking people so I took my chances descending one hundred flights through the fire escape. The only fires that burned in Quadrant City were those that His Majesty naturally created on his person or let burn in select areas of the city. Anywhere there was fire, Death could focus his attention and learn what was there as if he saw it through a long-distance camera. This is why the kitchen staff was prohibited irrelevant chatter in Castle Von Heisen when they stood before their stoves. They vented all that gossip-craze when they were off duty. For the first time in ten centuries, a fire bloomed that wasn’t of Death’s choosing. It was a bombing and I arrived about twenty minutes later to discover soul-medics patching people up. Many of their fleshified bodies had torn and soul essence seeped out. These were Quadrant’s first critical cases since the founding of this dimension.

  Death’s rule was powerful. He could throw the lot of us in nightmares that would squish our spirits and crush our souls. His esteemed belief in law, fairness and order was all that kept us going as we were. But the time had come when all that might change. Who would have the audacity, nay the stupidity, to stoke Death’s fire? They were putting all of us in danger. The Resistance must be responsible, although why I’m not sure yet. He wasn’t lit up with fire, he wasn’t ordering anyone about, His Majesty merely stood there, one hoof atop a large chunk of rubble. I didn’t recognize this mode. I have never seen him like this before. I had a bad feeling it wasn’t my exhaustion talking, after all that crowd pressing and pushing to get out of the building. I thought to myself that the King was so angry he couldn’t physically express it. The Resistance just called doom down on us all. He wouldn’t go easy anymore than he already has.

  As my instincts flared on possible actions from the King, I had found myself by his side. “The gong.” He must have spoken to someone else because I couldn’t make head or tail of what he said. The unthinkably fast and fat Boremasta bowed. From where did he roll in? He left to carry out the order. I noticed that he didn’t go far. He fished out an official looking government phone just like the one I received that morning and spoke to someone on it.

  In the time it took for me to wander around and stand in shock at the property damage, crying life-forms and fast-working medics, a loud peal filled the air. It was deep and sonorous and reverberated like a thin metal plate. It was keen and not thundery. It was a gong. The sound came again, in intervals of ten seconds. The vibrations collected and rang until the whole city could hear. King Death had taken to the air and from the direction he flew I guessed he headed back to government at city center. I didn’t know what he had in mind but I knew I had to be there to learn of it or, dare I say, calm His Majesty down in case he plans to rain armageddon on our heads.

  “Nolan, back to the beginning,” I said as I got into his cab.

  “Sir, if I may?”

  “What is it?”

  The tension on my face must have been obvious because he looked away and said, “I think you’d better come with me.”

  He put the car in gear and went the other way from central. I didn’t know what he was doing. If I did, I’d have attempted to jump out the car or, since there was no divider between us, catch him by the collar and make him stop. But I sat back gripping what I could so I wouldn’t tumble with each screeching turn and mind-numbing side-swipe he performed. My fear of speed came back to haunt me. It gripped me tighter than I did the leather upholstery. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say I was being taken somewhere against my will. Wait, is Nolan Weatherby the cab driver kidnapping me? Am I being kidnapped? Is this really happening? Why am I not freaking out? Hey. I mean... “Hey, Nolan. Mr. Weatherby. Pal.
Where are we going?”

  “To show you something important, sir. Nothing to worry about.”

  “I’d like to collect a few things, er, from government. A camera,” I emphasized. “So I can photograph whatever it is you’re going to show me. A recorder,” my voice squeaked. “So I can, er, record my thoughts for official purposes. You do have the Reincarnator in your cab, you know.” I tried to smile naturally.

  “Don’t worry, sir. Trust me.”

  “Trust you?!” I scoffed. “Of course! Why wouldn’t I?”

  We drove at speed until we came to the Horatio Boulevard that led to the quandrant adjoining the Rewtramed one. We had entered downtown Liranova Quadrant, the poorest in the city. It was also the most crowded. How could people live in these concrete and tin-roof shelters? Recent flooding from the rains still hadn’t cleared. I couldn’t help but imagine the number of mosquitos that would breed in such a place. Because I knew what I was looking for, I could see swarms of them hovering over garbage dump piles and standing pools of water that had an oily hue on their surfaces. Nobody here would be able to afford a taxi. As if he’d heard my thoughts, Nolan swerved, drove into a pit that threw me up out of my seat, and made his way into a dirty garage that seemed to have come out of nowhere.

  As Nolan got out and walked around the back of the car to come open my side of the door, I wanted to compose myself, check my fears and worries, and sit inside like a dignitary who just wouldn’t stand for such barbaric behavior. But when he opened the door all he saw were two arms gripping the far sides of the seats, two legs spread foolishly wide to compensate for the speed he had been driving in and a slumped body that thought it wouldn’t fly out the front window if it bent itself the way it did. I got out, reluctant but curious at the same time. This had to go somewhere, had to end sometime. Maybe if I went along with Nolan’s foreign sense of humor we’ll laugh it off sooner than later and I could punch him hard and pretend it was friendly. If I thought the outside was dirty the inside of this garage could win an award for best filthy space in Quadrant. I wanted the clean comfort of my apartment, the floors and walls that I had scrubbed to perfection, or at least came close.