The Goodbye Man
- Автор: Дивер Джеффри
- Серия: Colter Shaw #2
- Год: 2020
- Язык: английский
- Год: G. P. Putnam’s Sons
- ISBN: 978-0-525-53597-3
- Жанр: Другие детективы
Электронная книга - «The Goodbye Man». Краткое содержание книги:
He’d planned on eating quickly and then approaching Victoria afterward. But he’d arrived late. He’d had to return to his dorm for his notebook; an AU had noticed him barehanded and reminded him of the rule that you kept your notebook with you at all times. “You might,” the man said, “have an insight.” As if speaking of finding a pot of gold.
By the time he was back in the hall, Victoria had left. Only ten minutes? Maybe she’d forgone the steam-table food — understandable — and had picked only juice, coffee or tea.
The tones of “Ode to Joy” filled the camp.
The angelic voice: “The time is nine a.m. All Novices please report to the Square for Master Eli’s First Discourse.”
A command, Shaw noted. The word please didn’t mitigate.
A moment later: “All other Companions who wish to hear Master Eli may attend as well.”
The Square was a fifty-by-hundred-foot clearing in the portion of the camp near Eli’s residence. At the south side was a broad stage, whose backdrop was a purple banner with the words in dark gold: YESTERDAY, TODAY, TOMORROW, the same as the wrought-iron gate topper. Above the middle word was a large infinity symbol, also gold.
The stage was about thirty feet across and bare except for three armchairs at the far right. Anja sat in one, Steve in another. The chair closer to center stage was higher. A throne.
Shaw looked for Victoria. He couldn’t spot her in the crowd, which numbered maybe eighty or ninety people. Some of the Companions were chatting, some were silent and serious, some had smiles on their faces. In the center were the Novices, Apprentices and Journeymen. On the outskirts were the Inner Circle Companions, about two dozen of them. They were arrayed in fact in a circle.
The entire camp appeared to be here, even though attendance was mandatory only for Novices.
Synthesizer music suddenly filled the air: this time the entire “Ode to Joy” theme from Beethoven’s Ninth, a more rousing and, yes, joyous composition could be found nowhere in the classical repertoire. The ICs began clapping in time to the music, and Shaw realized that the meter was that of the clapping from last night. Everyone, including Shaw, joined in.
For a minute or so the musical notes echoed through the valley, then they ended abruptly — though the clapping did not. The ICs kept it up, encouraging — requiring — the whole assembly to do the same. Finally Master Eli strode onto the stage, arms raised, radiating a smile. Anja and Steve were on their feet too and slapping their palms together like everyone else.
Not all of the ICs were participating, though. Some held tablets and from time to time made notes or took videos of Eli and the crowd.
Voices in the audience would yell “Master Eli!” There were cheers and impassioned cries whose words Shaw couldn’t make out because of the cacophony.
Eli would occasionally point to someone in the audience and smile or give the shoulder salute.
Then to everyone: “Greetings, my dear Companions!”
Some in the audience cried out in response. The Inner Circle began calling, “Greet-ings, greet-ings!” lifting their arms and clapping in that 4/4 meter slap of palms. The ICs would make forays into the crowd to make sure the other Companions kept up the recitation. This rally-esque frenzy set Shaw on edge but he played along and kept a ridiculous smile plastered to his face as he recited the word over and over.
Eventually the clapping and chanting petered out.
“What a gorgeous group you are! Gorgeous!” Eli walked closer to the edge of the stage, which was about six feet high, unnecessarily lofty; though he wasn’t tall, he could easily have been seen from the back of the square if the platform had been half as high.
“Welcome to my Discourse. First one. First time’s always good, right? You’re going to love it. I guarantee you that. All you Novices out there... you’re going to love it.” He looked to several Journeymen near the front of the stage. “Aren’t they going to love it?”
The men and women seemed delighted to have been singled out. They nodded and beamed.
“Sure you are. See? I’m telling you.”
Clapping. Shaw’s hands were already stinging. He’d grow calluses if this kept up. His eyes met John’s, and the man gave a faint smile and flapped his hands, as if they stung. Shaw nodded back.
Walter and Sally approached Shaw. He was surprised when Sally said, “Morning, Novice Carter.” That she’d retained Shaw’s name clearly pleased her husband.
“What’ll this be?” Shaw asked, glancing toward the stage.
Walter said, “Introduction to the Foundation and the Process. Meet the master. It’s for the newbies but, well, if you didn’t guess, Eli likes big audiences. I heard they take note about who doesn’t show up.”
The infamous They.
“It’s not a bad idea to sit through it again, though. The Process can be a little... ungraspable at first. If that’s a word.”
“Ought to be, if it isn’t.”
Eli walked slowly left to right, every eye following him, then he returned to center stage. He wasn’t in the sun, yet his face and white tunic glowed. There were no obvious stage lights but looking back Shaw saw several large halogens half-hidden in trees. There was no sound or light booth; it appeared that the beams were operated by a computerized system that followed him automatically wherever he moved onstage.
Eli began speaking in a soothing baritone. “The Today that we live in is so brief. In the whole scheme of the Universe, it’s fleeting. A blink. You know what I mean?” He snapped his fingers. “There. Uh-oh. Missed it. Here, then gone. That’s why we can’t waste a second, not one single second, on regret, unhappiness, sorrow, anxiety, depression, mourning. Not one damn second. All those bad things that plague us. Can’t waste time.”
Murmurs of agreement.
“Nobody’s immune. They’ve plagued me, troubles have, I’ll tell you that.” He repeated slowly, “Bad things. Oh, the stories I could tell you about my past, my youth. Everything I’ve been through. Nobody’s been through harder times than I have. I know you’ve checked me out some. I know you’ve Googled me, right? Of course you have!”
Which wouldn’t have done much good, since your minions acid-washed your presence right off the web.
Eli pointed to the crowd. “You’re smart, you’re the smartest! You’re gorgeous!”
“We love you, Master Eli!”
Applause and cheers. He calmed them with a smile and a palm-down gesture, the way you’d still a jumping dog.
“‘Googled’! How’s that for a word? In my day, we didn’t say, ‘I encyclopediaed somebody.’ Or ‘I libraried them.’”
The crowd laughed and Colter Shaw, who had grown up in a tech-free home, decided that at last he and Eli agreed on something.
“So. Fellow Companions, for those who don’t know what Google is, I’m going to tell you a little bit about Master Eli. My parents passed when I was young and I endured a series of foster homes. It was a difficult time for me, terrible. Abuse, deprivation. Living on the streets. I was beaten, I was robbed.”
The hushed pedal tones of sympathy rose from the grounds.
“Some of you may not believe it, looking at me now, but I was in bad shape. And — you’re my friends so I’ll share with you — I have no trouble sharing. So I’ll share with you that there were some bad people who took advantage of me. Some very bad people. The worst. They forced me to try drinking, try drugs. Oh, I stopped that. I knew that wasn’t good for me. I could do that, I could stop. It took strength but that’s one thing I have. Oh, I’ve got strengths you wouldn’t believe.
“I can tell strong people. I can tell by looking who’s strong and who isn’t. I can see you’re strong too, aren’t you? I can see it. So I stopped all that bad behavior. I woke up one morning and said, ‘This isn’t right.’ And I kicked all the bad things out, the bad people. Nobody was going to get anything over on me ever again. I used my willpower and, bang, kicked all the bad stuff and bad people out.