Wake the Dead

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Wake the Dead Page 5

by Victoria Buck


  “Robert? You’re on a first-name basis?”

  “He is our associate now. Our medical consultant and supplier of wonders. But you know that. He contacted you first. Really, I owe it all to you, Chase.”

  “Well, thank you very much, Kerstin.” His anger slipped into a muddled simmer. He took a breath and sat in the chair on the other side of her desk. “I don’t understand.”

  “What you mean is you don’t understand how you could have lost control of this situation. The doctor called you. You met with him. You brought a kidney back from his laboratory. And you were supposed to be the one to receive the accolades for taking our show to the next level. For introducing the world to your amazing find.”

  “Well, no, not exactly.”

  “Change Your Life is my show. You’re just the handsome face that tells the poor saps what they’ve won. You don’t need to worry yourself with the production of my show, Chase. All you need to do is come to work, get in front of the camera, and smile.”

  “But people depend on me. I’m the one they trust. I’m the one they watch.” Something else crept into his thoughts. “I’m the one who cares about them.” He looked her in the eye. “Not you.”

  She let out a laugh. “You’re right about that. I care about the ratings. When did you go all soft for the contestants? It’s a job, Chase. An assignment. It’s a paycheck, and a fat one at that. When did you start caring about them?”

  “When did you stop caring?”

  “Darling, nothing is any different. But soon, things may change.” She reached across the desk and cupped his face in her cold hand. “New assignments are being discussed. That’s what I hear.”

  He rose from the chair and backed away from her. “What are you talking about? This is my life. This is who I am.”

  “You are who the government says you are. Trust me, you won’t be out of the spotlight.” She put her palms flat on the desktop. “But that’s really all I know. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

  “Where did you hear it?”

  “Production meeting with some WR officials. They think it will be good for SynVue. And for you. Don’t look so worried.”

  Chase backed against the wall. “Wouldn’t you be worried if somebody said your life was about to change?”

  She laughed. “Chase, changing lives is what we do.”

  “What about Elaine?”

  “What about her?”

  “What did he do to her? Dr. Fiender, I mean.”

  “Oh, I couldn’t begin to explain it. Something about nano circuits.”

  “He turned her into a puppet,” Chase said.

  “I wouldn’t say that. He made her manageable. That’s all.”

  “I saw the implants when I went to his lab. I told him I wasn’t ready for the show to go that direction.”

  “As I said, Chase, it’s my show. And I’m ready.” She smiled. “Anyway, it wasn’t on the show, not really. Elaine Jenz is old news. Nobody cares about what goes on in her brain. Now go get some rest, and try not to think about what I said. I shouldn’t have mentioned anything.”

  Chase headed out the door without looking at her. “I don’t want anything to change. I won’t allow it.”

  10

  Chase retreated to his townhouse. He pushed the light filter key to darken the windows and then powered down his computer and turned off his VPad. He took a shower, put on sweatpants, and fell onto the bed. His hands rested on his bare chest.

  The room had already been decorated when he’d moved in, and he never liked it. Now he looked at the teal walls and rust colored bedding, the lacquered ebony dresser, the plush chair in the corner that matched the duvet. A chandelier hung over his head, antique, or made to look that way. Dozens of prisms danced in the wake of the air system’s stream.

  “I can’t do this. I won’t change,” he said to the ceiling. He really had no choice. SynVue was owned by the government. Or was it the other way around? Nobody could say for sure. The two entities were one. “I like my life. I’m happy.”

  He fell deep into tortured dreams.

  ****

  The next day didn’t bring its usual excitement. The run’s final show always put Chase in a good mood. He would check the votes, even if they were meaningless. He didn’t know if anybody but him even looked at the outcome. Certainly Kerstin didn’t. But the votes were real—SynVue kept a file. Today Chase didn’t even open the vote program.

  For the past week, SynVue had blasted the fans with updates and reviews of the Larin Andrews’ story. Now the voting was over, and it was time to give the contestant his rewards. People were stupid enough to believe they were the ones determining how blessed this poor buffoon would be.

  Chase walked into his dressing room and poured himself some coffee. “This is all such a joke.” He gulped too fast and burned his tongue. “My life is a joke.” He threw the cup across the room just as Mel entered.

  “Boss, what’s wrong?” She rushed to him, and it seemed to Chase that she would embrace him. But she wrapped her arms around herself instead.

  “I don’t know what to do.” Chase paced the room and then settled on the sofa.

  “You don’t know what to do about what?”

  He realized then that his assistant might get reassigned as well. If he got a new position, she might not be necessary. “I feel like I’m losing it.”

  She sat beside him and put her hand on his arm. “Losing what, boss? You’re scaring me.”

  “I heard from Kerstin that things might be changing around here.”

  “And you’re worried about it? Maybe it’s nothing. We’ve made changes in the past. It’s never been anything to get all upset about.”

  “I think this is a big one, Mel. I think they’re getting rid of me.”

  “That can’t be true. People love you. The fans wouldn’t stand for it.”

  She was right. But maybe the fans, like their votes, didn’t matter. “Things have changed,” he said. “Larin’s been all weird. And Elaine Jenz was certainly not showing me any love when she had her breakdown. Of course, she was very nice yesterday when I saw her. She’s better. Well, I don’t know if you can call it better. She’s been…adjusted. And that man who was yelling out there at the village—I don’t think he’s a fan.” Chase jumped off the sofa. “Maybe I don’t have as many fans as I thought. Maybe people are—”

  “Boss, calm down.”

  He dropped to the sofa, took her hand and held on tight. “Did you see her?”

  “Elaine? No, but I heard she’s back. Isn’t that a good thing? What do you mean about her being adjusted?”

  “Dr. Fiender put something in her brain. He told me how it works, and I told him I didn’t like the idea.”

  “But he did it anyway? Who...?” The realization showed on her face. “Kerstin.”

  “Exactly.”

  “So, how does it work?”

  Chase leaned back, still clinging to his assistant’s hand. “I don’t understand it all.”

  “Is it a drug or a chip?”

  “More like a chip, I guess, but a new kind. Without the side effects. Or so they say. If nothing else, the side effect is that she’s no longer herself. Now she’s less, or more, of the person she was. Either way, she’s been partly replaced with something made in a lab.”

  “At least she’s better now.” Mel squeezed Chase’s hand, and he let her go. “Do you think this doctor wants to do that to everybody?”

  “It’ll be a new world if he does.”

  “What about Change Your Life? You think we’ll do it to contestants?”

  “I don’t know, but things are happening. And I don’t know where I fit in. Or if I even want to fit in.” He looked into her caring eyes as he breathed in a faint, flowery scent. She always smelled of lilacs. Lifting his hand, he nearly touched her cheek.

  She quickly stood and walked to the door. “It’s time to get ready, boss.”

  “Yeah, OK.” He rubbed his face. “I hope they
don’t split us up.”

  “You and Kerstin? I know.”

  “No,” he said. “You and me.”

  ****

  Chase took center stage. The crowd was ready. Larin was ready. Chase breathed deep and shook his head. Then he put on his best Change Your Life smile. The partition dropped. The light came up. And the crowd roared.

  “Welcome.” Chase lifted his arms. “Welcome to this, our final chapter in the rebirth of Larin Andrews. Today we’ll find out what you, the generous fans, have chosen for Larin’s future. Will it be a transplant and good health? Will it be a new home? Or will he get both health and wealth?”

  The audience cheered and a few voices called out, “Yes. Yes. Health and wealth.” The crowd began a unified chant. Chase motioned to the left of the stage, and Larin Andrews came to him as the crowd applauded.

  “Larin, my good man, today is the day. How do you feel?”

  “I’m excited, a little nervous. I’m ready for this.” He gave a weak smile. But he looked better than he did the previous week. It wasn’t his appearance—he was still gray and sickly. Something in his eyes showed a new determination or hope. Or power. Maybe it was just the knowledge that his life was about to change for the better.

  “Let’s take a look back on your life, Larin.” Chase lifted a hand to the giant GVs over the stage, and the audience quieted their rumble.

  Larin’s face appeared on the screens. “My name is Larin Andrews. I have no future. No hope. That is, without the help of Change Your Life.” Chase heard Larin snicker. “What a pitiful sap I was,” Larin said quietly. “I’m glad that’s over.” The screens played out Larin’s life for all to see. His failing health and his poverty carried the story.

  “What are you talking about, Larin? This is not over until it’s over,” Chase whispered. “You won’t know what your prizes are for another thirty minutes.”

  “Right. You’re right, Chase.” Larin had that gleam in his eye again. “Are you OK?”

  “Are you?” Chase looked away.

  After a few minutes, the screens went dark and the stage lights came up. Chase faced the crowd and began his verbal climb to the announcement of the prizes.

  “Larin, tell us what your life will be like if you receive a transplant?”

  “My family won’t have to dispose of my ashes in six weeks. I’ll live.”

  “And what if you and your dear wife and kids are given a new home? A grand home.” Chase looked to the crowd.

  “Then I’ll know that when I’m gone, my family won’t be on the streets. So to speak.” He didn’t mention the village. “And I’ll live out my final days in peace.”

  “And what if your health is restored? Will you go back to your job as a street sweeper?”

  “I can only hope to be so blessed as to get my assignment back from the WR. I’m out of the system, you know. But I’d take the job if they’d let me have it.”

  “Tell me, Larin. If you could do anything, get reassigned, what would you like to do?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. Job like yours, maybe.” Larin smiled big and lifted his hands to the crowd. A roaring laugh met his imitation of Chase. “Of course, I’m a little too old for the gig, and I don’t look the part. But with a little surgery…”

  Chase forced a laugh. “Listen to that, people. Don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere. I bring the blessings, Larin, and you receive.” He turned to the camera and smiled. “Stay with us. We’ll be right back.”

  The partition rose from the floor as makeup assistants and directors hurried on stage. Chase could not look at Larin. He looked past the stage for Mel. He caught her eyes and motioned her to come to him.

  “Doing all right, boss?”

  He turned her around and walked her away from center stage. “Larin knows something. I think he’s going to get my job.”

  “That’s ridiculous. He’s a little weird, boss. That’s what’s got you so worried. You’ve got this unpredictable contestant to deal with on top of the queen telling you stuff that might not amount to anything.” She turned him back to his place on the stage and patted his back. “Let’s just get this episode over with, and get Larin out of here. Then everything will look better.”

  “Yeah. OK.” He brushed his hands down the front of his suit. Mel hurried off the stage. Larin peered over the top of his water glass. The partition went down and Larin limped to the center of the stage.

  “Larin Andrews, today your life will change forever,” Chase said, more to the crowd than the contestant. “The fans have voted. And this is what they’ve decided.”

  Larin brought his hand to his mouth, dropped his head, and closed his eyes.

  “He wants your job, Chase!” The shout came from somewhere in the audience.

  “No.” Larin looked up in surprise. “Of course not. Chase, I was just talking nonsense. You know that.” He turned to the crowd. “I could never hope to be as wise and generous…” He paused a moment. “And loved as this wonderful man.”

  The fans applauded.

  A muted thud came from among them. Then a light. Chase saw the angry burst of fire coming right at him. There was no time to run.

  11

  A dream or something…

  He awoke in a quiet place. Definitely not on stage. Wherever he was, it was dark. Beyond dark. A bed held him at an elevation so that he was almost sitting upright. Shaking his head, he blinked. Nothing. He was blind. But in his mind, he could still see the light coming for him, and Larin standing beside him.

  “Hello? Is anyone there?”

  “Tell me your name?”

  “Chase Sterling. Where am I?”

  “I mean your real name. The name your parents gave you.”

  Why would he ask him that? Nobody knew Chase Sterling wasn’t his real name. Well, his mother knew, of course. And Kerstin knew. “Charles Redding, but I don’t go by that. Nobody even knows my name was changed when I got my assignment.”

  “Named after your father. He used to call you Charlie. It was your mother who first called you Chase, and the nickname stuck.”

  “How do you know that? Who are you?”

  He didn’t answer.

  Chase rubbed his eyes. He still couldn’t see a thing. His hands were wet, but it didn’t feel like water. He touched his fingers to his nose. Blood.

  “Excuse me, I think I’m bleeding. Could I get some help?”

  “You’ll be all right. Reach beside you—there’s a bowl of water and a towel.”

  He felt in the darkness until his hand was submerged in cool water. He put his other hand in and rubbed away the bloody mess. He dried his hands on the towel and used it to wipe his face. There was no pain, but something seemed very wrong.

  “What happened to me? There was some sort of flash. Was I shot? I was on stage when a light came at me. Am I dead?”

  “Do you feel dead?”

  “I’d really like to know who I’m talking to. I don’t recognize your voice. Are you a director?”

  “Something like that.”

  “You’re with the WR.” He was some government bigwig. This was it—Chase’s career was over. And judging by the blindness and blood on his hands, he wasn’t ready for any new assignment. “Can I talk to my assistant? Her name is Melody Reese.”

  “I know her.”

  “Can you get her for me?”

  “We have some things to go over.”

  “Like what? New job? New life? I really don’t want things to change.”

  “Let’s review your life, Charles Redding. Let’s take a look at where you came from.”

  He was mocking Chase—it sounded like a line from the show. Then a screen lit up. “Hey, I can see now. My vision is coming back.”

  “Good. Watch this.”

  Chase looked at the big screen, only it wasn’t a GV. It was more like an old movie screen. Landscape, lush and green, filled his vision. It looked like the place where he’d grown up. A seagull whizzed past. The sound of rushing water told him he was ne
ar the river. And then, he was on the screen. Only there wasn’t a screen anymore. Chase looked at his hands. They were small and sandy. He looked at his feet, at the blue sneakers he wore when he was ten.

  “Hey, get me out of here,” Chase whined.

  No one answered.

  He thought he might cry, but he didn’t. He was a grown man. An influential man. This was some kind of new game. A new prize for contestants. And SynVue was trying it out on him. Well, OK, he could play along. As if he had any choice. He turned a circle. He knew the way home.

  He came up past Braden River High School. Stupid teenagers. They were always messing with him. His house was just a couple of blocks away. He started to run.

  “Hey, Chase.” A little girl waved from across the road.

  Chase waved back to her. “Hey, Kathleen.” He ran a little faster.

  He came to his house and went up the walkway to the front door. Chase could hear his mother singing. What was that? Something about the light of the moon. She had a lovely voice. Chase had forgotten she used to sing. He opened the door. “Mom?”

  “In here, Chase. I’m baking your birthday cake.”

  “It’s my birthday?”

  She walked into the front room with a dish towel in her hands. “You silly boy.” She smiled, and he ran to her and threw his arms around her.

  “What’s this? Did you miss me that much? You’ve only been gone for a couple of hours.” She patted his back and kissed the top of his head. She smelled like chocolate and soap. That’s when the dream, or the game—whatever was happening on the screen—became real.

  He looked up. “I think it’s been more than a couple of hours.”

  “Don’t be so silly. If you were gone more than two hours, I’d have the whole Braden River City police force looking for you. All six of them. And if they couldn’t find you I’d call the FBI.”

  “What time will Dad be home?”

  “In time for dinner. You sure you don’t want to invite a couple of friends over tonight? I hate it that we’re not having a party like last year.”

 

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