Chapter Twenty-Three - It All Ends
Hugo shifted, chewing on his thumb. It was his last day at Gideon Enterprises. It had been surprisingly easy to avoid Mr. Hansen after Clem had turned in their resignation letters, but he figured he should at least talk to the man before he left for good. Hugo’s stomach plummeted. No, it wasn’t for good, he could come back any time he wanted. Gideon Enterprises and the Phoenix Foundation would be on friendly terms, especially while Mr. Hansen was running the company during Mr. Gideon’s recovery.
“You can go in, Hugo.” Nancy pointed out, clearly amused.
Hugo glanced at her, almost jumping at the sound of her voice. Finally he nodded to himself, took a deep breath, and pushed on one of the double doors to enter the cozy, modest office. It really didn’t matter where Mr. Hansen had been in the room the moment Hugo entered, he appeared to be sitting serenely at his desk, hands folded on top of it, “Hi Mr. Hansen.”
“Good afternoon, Hugo, have a seat,” Mr. Hansen responded, his voice pleasant and conversational. Hugo reluctantly approached the desk, sliding into the offered seat. He was at a loss as to what to do next. Luckily the other man didn’t seem to have the same problem, “You’re about to head out, I imagine?” Hugo nodded. “Thanks for stopping by first, I wanted to thank you.” Hugo realized his fish impression was rather good at the moment, but he couldn’t seem to come up with anything but air to come out of his mouth. “It’s unfortunate that you’re leaving.”
“What?” Hugo finally responded almost incredulously, “I’ve been nothing but a disaster since day one. I only joined because-” Hugo interrupted himself, immediately clamping his mouth shut.
Mr. Hansen, or the image of him at least, leaned forward slightly, and for a flickering moment Hugo wondered if the Vice President of HR was actually behind him, a steady gun pressed against the back of his head. “I have always wondered about that,” Mr. Hansen responded, a measure of amusement in his voice, “your personality profile suggested this company was not a good…fit for you.” There was a small pause, “and I suppose in the end it was true. But still, you took on the ideals of the company rather quickly.”
Hugo blinked several times, baffled by the choice of words. However, as he analyzed the statement he realized it was true, twisted, but true. In all his mistakes, in all the death, he’d been trying to shield powered people from the world, and the world from powered people. He had even adopted some of the darker paths of the founders; the ends justify the means. “I never thought of it that way,” he replied thoughtfully.
Mr. Hansen nodded, “I wish you were staying, but I’m not going to try to convince you to.” Hugo’s eyes widened and the man’s return smile was sad and tired. He held up a hand, “It took me too long, but I realized what you were trying to do with my brother, saw your dedication and resolve to follow the difficult path, your willingness to sacrifice…” Mr. Hansen trailed off and Hugo found he couldn’t even imagine what the man’s real expression was like.
For his part, Hugo was having trouble breathing. He bunched his hands together in his lap, something to anchor him against the sudden, strange, wobbly feeling filling his body, “You can’t…” his voice trembled and he coughed to right it, “You can’t possibly mean that. Not now. Not after…”
Mr. Hansen sighed, the sound weary. And then the room brightened as if someone had flicked a light switch. The illusion was gone. He was still sitting at the desk, but Hugo remembered the extra lines in this face, the small wrinkles in the white fabric of his button-down shirt from when the vice president had passed out from the brain hemorrhage. “I appreciate what you’ve done here and I think you will give the world a lot more,” Mr. Hansen was staring directly at him, his voice firm; Hugo couldn’t look away. His eyes stung, but he swallowed several deep breaths to shove everything back down.
When he didn’t verbally respond, Mr. Hansen chuckled and it was recognizable as genuine amusement, “My apologies, that was corny.” The sound faded, but there was still a small smile on the man’s face, “But when something needs to be said, it should be.” He moved around the desk to stand in front of Hugo, offering his hand. Hugo surged to his feet, nearly knocking the chair over in his haste. They shook hands; it was a quiet contact, free of visions. “Good luck,” Mr. Hansen said as they let go.
Hugo nodded once, “To you too.”
Mr. Hansen smiled his response, so Hugo turned and walked out of the room. He gave Nancy a small wave and a smile as he passed, which she returned without reservation. Despite the small headache he was getting, probably from minor dehydration, he felt good.
The Sound of Wind Page 88