AfterLife (18 page)

“We don’t want to recruit him?” Seth asked.

“Our contact in AfterLife doesn’t believe he will make the
switch. It would be in our best interest to remove him altogether. As soon as
possible. Use his brother as a trap if necessary. Family is always a great
lure.”

“Yes, my Body.”

“If Wesley Lohmann cannot be eliminated, you will be dealt
with. Is that understood?”

This was not a threat, Seth knew, but an ultimatum. Worse,
the decision of one stupid girl, Jezebel, had gotten him into this position. He
had no choice but to comply. “Yes, my Body.”

“There is nothing more to discuss at this time. This call is
now finished.” There was a click at the other end of the line as the call was
disconnected.

The phone felt heavy and made a loud thud on the base when
Seth hung it up. In all his years of service to the Atumra, this was the first
time his position had been threatened. His ambitions drove him relentlessly,
and he aspired to one day become a member of the Body. If he failed in the task
that lay before him, he would not only lose everything he had worked for during
his entire Mortui existence, he would undoubtedly be severed after the Body had
him agonizingly tortured.

He needed to act fast to start the recruitment of Lyall
Lohmann. As much as he disliked Jezebel, he knew she would be the perfect
person for the assignment. Nor could he punish her to ensure compliance as he
had with Blake. That would not give him the results he desired and needed. He
would instead dangle the carrot she desperately wanted, the possession of an
antemort body, to lure her in the direction he wanted her to go. She wanted to
live again, that was the reason she had defected to the Atumra. He would make
her think she would be able to have that chance.

Seth sat at his desk and stared out the window while
contemplating what he should do to accomplish what was expected of him. It was
not long before he knew he needed a break. The call from the Body had exhausted
him and he needed to feed.

W
es had lived
in Chicago his whole antemort life and never owned a car. There was no reason
to. Today, however, as he climbed into the passenger seat of Ken’s car, he was
sure if he owned one it would be just like the one he was sitting in. It would
have the same sun damaged blue paint job as this old hatchback Volkswagen
Rabbit, and no doubt would make the same shrill sound this car made when it
started. The ease with which Ken fought the steering wheel to maneuver the
vehicle in and out of traffic was the third similarity to Wes’s imaginary car.

“I didn’t think there were any more of these things on the
road,” Wes said as Ken pulled the car out of the driveway and away from the
yellow house.

“There is at least one, Mr. Wes.” Ken grinned at Wes and his
face wrinkled up in its familiar way. Ken smiled a lot. “It pleases me, Mr.
Wes, that Emily is willing to give up her time with you so I can teach you some
learning of
my own. She’s incredibly wise and I’m sure she understands
how a diverse education will only benefit you in the long run.”

“She told me she had some things to follow up on without
me,” Wes said, amused by Ken’s statement. He truly enjoyed the time he spent
with Ken, and he’d learned a lot from him. “I don’t know how much of that is
due to wanting to diversify my education as just wanting to get away from me.”

“Is there trouble between you two?” Ken didn’t look over at
Wes when he posed the question.

“No, none at all,” Wes answered. “We get along great. She’s
as amazing as ever.”

“Ah yes, I see,” Ken said. “You are in love with her.”

“What? No, I just know girls sometimes need alone time.”
During their weeks in Charleston, Wes had grown to adore Emily, but was careful
not to say or do anything to let her know how he felt. Ken certainly didn’t
have enough facts to make such a conclusion.

“It’s okay, I don’t think Emily realizes your affection for
her as I have. It’s the little things, Mr. Wes, which maybe only I have noticed
in our training sessions.”

“Like what?” Wes began to worry that if Ken was able to pick
up on his growing feelings for Emily, maybe she was too. The last thing he
wanted was to make things uncomfortable between them. He enjoyed being with
her. It was as simple as that. They had grown to be friends. So what if Wes
hoped that friendship would be the foundation of something more?

Ken snickered at Wes. “Don’t worry yourself. You kids are
always worrying yourselves over these things.”

“I will worry myself. What have you noticed?”

“I have only observed trivial things. For example, when we
sync to work on your amusement park, you always speak of how much you think
Emily will be pleased with what you’ve done or created. When was the last time
you took her to that lovely park of yours?” Ken lifted his right eyebrow and
gave Wes a quick glance over his thin-rimmed glasses.

“She hasn’t seen it since before we moved here,” Wes said.
“It isn’t ready. If we do anything that requires us to soul-sync we’re always
in a neutral place, usually in the nothingness.”

They left Charleston city limits. The corn and soy in the
fields lay barren after the harvests, and vast stretches of dirt and brown
plant remains were visible on either side of the narrow two-lane road. Having
been born and raised a city boy, Wes never realized how lifeless the rest of
the state looked in the fall and winter.

“Would you consider you and young Emily good friends, Mr.
Wes?” Ken held the steering wheel with both hands to keep it steady. The small
car vibrated as it was navigated around the pothole-riddled country road.

“Yeah,” Wes answered, “I’d consider her more of a friend
than anyone I’ve ever known.”

“That, young man, is the basis of the best relationships. I
am sure someone as brilliant as you will realize that upon further reflection
of your feelings for young Emily. Never be afraid of what you discover when you
truly examine your thoughts. We will arrive at the Hub in a short while. I look
forward to showing you how Ops works today.”

Ken was a master of conversation as Wes quickly discovered
during his interactions with the man. He would open a topic for discussion, get
Wes to volunteer information he didn’t intend to reveal, give a short snippet
of advice, and change the subject without Wes even realizing what had happened
until after the topic was already changed. Today the topic had gone from his
interest in Emily to the purpose of their training for the day.

The discussion for the remainder of the drive to the Hub was
centered on how Wes would defend himself if he was pulled into a soul-sync with
a Mortui trying to harm him. It seemed to be Ken’s favorite topic. Every time
Wes showed him the progress he was making on his Magic Kingdom, Ken would offer
ideas for traps Wes could incorporate into the design that another Mortui would
never expect. They were usually good ideas and because Wes trusted Ken he
always followed his advice and implemented them.

Living in rural Illinois was beginning to be a strain on
Wes. Making so many adjustments in such a short amount of time was difficult,
and the sudden drastic changes left him feeling as empty as the vast stretches
of dry fields surrounding him. Everything he thought he knew about life and
death had been rendered obsolete when he became a Mortui.

Of course, it wasn’t all bad – there were some things he
looked forward to. He liked working on his park with Ken and he enjoyed the
time he and Emily spent with Ken and Carol, Ken’s partner and wife. He even
enjoyed most of his training. More than anything, he hated that he was forced
to get a minimum wage sales job at a department store just to learn how to live
among antemorts as a Mortui, but he kept reminding himself that this was all
temporary, and any time he didn’t spend at work was spent with Emily. The time
they spent together made up for all the negative changes in Wes’s world. Ken
was right. She was more than just a friend.

Talking with Ken made time pass quickly. It wasn’t long
before the rattling old car made it to the Hub and they were parked in the
underground garage. Wes looked at all the other cars that were available. He
knew they could take any one they wanted when they left. He knew, too, that Ken
wouldn’t abandon his Volkswagen and the drive back to Charleston would take
place in the dilapidated vehicle. The car worked for Ken, and eliminated any
questions that might be asked if someone saw a semi-retired college professor
driving one of the flashy or more expensive vehicles housed in the garage.

Wes and Ken exited the garage and headed for Ops. Wes had
met Oscar on one previous occasion, right before he and Emily left the Hub for
Charleston to begin his training. Oscar was a short chubby man with buzzed
brown hair. His Puerto Rican accent was heavy and he spoke so fast Wes had to
think quickly to keep up with what he was saying.

“So, Wes, dis es Ops. How you like?” Oscar sat on a rolling
chair in a room that looked like the control tower of a busy airport, except in
place of the giant windows that would surround the room there were large
computer monitors displaying everything from traffic camera footage and
satellite images to large amounts of compiled data. On one screen, Wes could
see a list of names followed by the geographic location of that person, what
their current assignment was, and when he or she had last checked in with the
Hub.

Wes nodded. “It’s cool.”

Oscar grinned, revealing a full mouth of white teeth that
were each separated by a very small gap. He turned to Ken. “I’m en da middle of
someding Ken. Es possible you give Wes what he needs to know?” Oscar rolled
over to one of the computer consoles and began typing frantically on a keyboard
while he talked into a microphone that hung down in front of his mouth from a
headset.

“Well, Mr. Wes, it seems the grand tour will be conducted by
me today. I’ll do what I can to give you accurate information about the inner
workings of Ops and then Oscar can fill in any gaps I may have left.” Ken
smiled his wrinkled smile. “Let us start on the right side of the room and work
our way around.” Ken pointed to two screens nearest to the door. “These first
two consoles are to monitor all the Mortuis in our district. Oscar receives
daily logs from each set of partners that are automatically processed through a
database for documentation purposes. Such records were used differently a few
months ago before the Ancestors changed the focus of AfterLife from one I liked
to call a repayment program to one that is to counter the Atumra. However, I
have come to see that in a sense even the new focus is a repayment program. We
are working to help antemorts either way.”

Wes watched the screens. The first screen displayed the
reports as they were filed by each paired group. Names, nouns, and key phrases
were highlighted by the system and on the second screen the highlighted text
was cross-referenced with information from other daily reports, news articles,
and references in online media sources. After watching the screen for a minute
Wes turned to Ken. “What do you mean when you say repayment program?”

“My dear Mr. Wes, that’s how we thank antemorts for the time
they give us from their lives. It is the whole purpose of AfterLife. We do what
we can to improve the lives of the living in exchange for allowing us to live
ourselves. Haven’t you ever felt guilt for feeding off an antemort?”

Wes thought about his attempt to help the girl from the bar.
“Yes, I know what you’re talking about.”

Ken nodded toward the screens. “This database is used to
cross-reference antemorts that have been helped and what was done to improve
their life. It could be something simple like paying a parking meter that was
about to expire or helping someone change a tire. It could be a larger gesture
like being a friend to someone who is going through a difficult time in his
life. Once they’ve moved on the Mortui does too. Now that we are working to
track movements of the Atumra and determine what they are up to, many of the
reports are more focused on that task.

“These next computers are for accessing external databases.
We can get into any database that is connected to the internet by some means or
another: government databases, hospitals, universities, businesses. The
information is used only in a responsible manner. We also have members who have
placed themselves in significant positions to ensure the flow of information we
need is always available.

“Continuing around the room, you see we can access satellite
cameras as well as any camera that is networked to a more sophisticated system
or that utilizes wireless connections to feed information to a larger computer.
You look confused, Mr. Wes.”

Realizing his confusion must have been evident on his face,
Wes relaxed his brow that was wrinkled up in thought. “I guess I don’t
understand the reasoning behind all this technology. Why would we need any of
this?”

“For communication and information. It provides a network
that allows every member of AfterLife to be connected to the larger whole. It
allows us to keep track of one another and our members who report to the other
Hubs around the globe.” Ken looked around the room for a pair of chairs that he
and Wes could sit on. “Information and communication is the key to any
organization’s success, Mr. Wes, and keys unlock doors of opportunities.” He
pulled a couple of rolling stools out from under the counter that ran around
the perimeter of the room and pushed one over to Wes.

“If we can access all this, what prevents the Atumra from
doing the same thing?” Wes took the stool and sat down on it.

“Ah yes, Mr. Wes, that’s a good observation. In truth,
nothing prevents them from doing what we’ve done except them. In the past, the
Atumra was driven more by the desire to feed than for self-actualization. Most
of our technology and accessibility is a result of our desire to help members
better themselves instead of focusing on their next sync with an antemort.
However, the Atumra is changing. They have stolen many of our processes and
procedures, and my feeling is that now they have access to much of the same
information – at least the information that suits their purposes.”