Known Afterlife (The Provider Trilogy, Volume One) (19 page)

I k
now 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 p
erfect 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 b
eing 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 th
an 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 a
pplicable 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 pa
th, 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, bu
sh 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 th
e 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 hast
e. 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...on
e, 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 ne
wly 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 b
y 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 inte
rest.

"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 character
istics.

"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 st
eel."

"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."

"Oh really. And how is that so," he asked, placing his hands on her hips, giddy by the sudden gift of her attention.

"My intern is a sixty-eight year old retired gardener, who dreamed of one day living out her final years in a home constructed from the livin
g organisms she tended to for the bulk of her adult life. Within a year of her retirement, thanks to the link visor and entrainment technology, she empowered herself with the knowledge that has enabled her dream to be realized. Your dream, Stalling Alterian, helps realize the dreams of others every day."

Lorissa's grateful smile evaporated the remnants of the stitch twisting in Stalling's chest. Yes, his greatest desire was to evolve man's ability to dream
, to have no limits on the collective imagination. But, he realized by the thump of his heart and tingling sensation rushing through his body as Lorissa pressed closer, he would have done it all for her.

Fulfilling her dream, fulfills my own.

"What's on your mind," she asked, sinking her head into his chest and wrapping her arms around his waist.

"It doesn't seem to matter anymore," he replied, holding her closer.

"I sense a deep seeded fear in you," she said, continuing to probe his heart. "What has the unflappable Stalling so scared?"

Stalling, gently rest
ing his chin on her thick curls, inhaled her scent deep into his lungs and released the long breath out his nostrils as he pondered her question. "I fear the far reaching collateral damage that may be caused by my mistakes, the least of which the death of our dear friend Muzar."

"Muzar chose to die long ago. You provided him a chance to right his soul and he gratefully took it," she replied. "We all knew, especially Muzar, that his return to us would change everything."

"But what if I was wrong...what if I altered that which should never be influenced by man?" Stalling asked with a quiver in his voice.

"Questions you have asked from the beginning, the answers to which we all agreed to honor when if they were revealed. Have you been provided the answers?"

"No," he replied. "But I sense they are fast approaching."

"Then let us deal with them when they do,"
she answered with contagious optimism. "This is not the time to second guess all the good that has come from Muzar's sacrifice, nor doubt the continued benevolence of his return. Not now, when you are so close."

"It will be a glorious age," Stalling sobbe
d, the tears freely flowing down his face now.

"Yes, it will indeed," Lorissa said with certainty.

They stayed locked in each other’s arms for several silent minutes. About the time Stalling started to become aware of the sensual moisture forming between their bodies, Lorissa leaned back with a seductive smile.