Your Truth is Out There (Find Your Truth Book 1) (3 page)

“This break will be different,” he had promised her, “we'll leave Clangdor and go to the fancy new resort on Alnost everyone's been talking about. We'll shut everything out and it will be just the two of us.”

But once again, it looked like this break was going to end up just like all the others—with him working and Lhvunsa stuck at home, alone. She was not going to take the cancellation of their romantic getaway very well; she had been looking forward to it for quite some time. So had he. But they would work through it. She would be upset, no doubt about it, but Lhvunsa would understand. She always did.

Rock on my children!

Rock on my love!

Rock all day and rock all night,

Roll in the sounds from heaven above.

The song came to a resounding end just ebyts before Gsefx was supposed to have arrived at work. Unfortunately for him, the traffic had not moved one bit. Far from just being a little late, it was clear now that he was going to miss most of a very important client meeting. He took another deep breath to calm himself before entering his boss’ dial-code into the vidcon. This was not going to be a pleasant conversation.

The vidcon lit up and the thin, pale-gray face of Qilzar appeared.

“My dear Gsefx,” he said casually, “late again, I see.” Strangely, he did not seem angry. In fact, he seemed quite pleased.

“I’m truly sorry, Et Qilzar,” said Gsefx, “but it’s not my fault. I left the house thirty ebyts early. It’s this traffic, it’s …”

Qilzar interrupted before he could completely justify himself.

“Of course, traffic is always terrible at this time.” He paused for a moment. “You do realize this is the fifth time you’ve been late this semi-turn?”

“Yes sir, and I am sorry. No matter what it takes, it won’t happen again, I promise.”

“No need to concern yourself, Gsefx.”

Qilzar was actually smiling now, an action that concerned Gsefx immensely.

“In fact, there’s no need for you to come into the office at all.”

Gsefx looked puzzled.

“I’m not sure I understand.”

“Of course you do.” The smile left Qilzar’s face. “Galacticount employment policy 462b-7, paragraph 18c, specifically defines tardiness as arrival at the Galacticount offices by more than ten ebyts past the beginning of the established work rotation. Further, an employee is allowed no more than four unexcused tardies per semi-turn. Additional tardies are grounds for immediate dismissal.”

“Now wait just a minute, you can’t possibly mean …”

“The regulations are quite clear on the matter.” Qilzar’s expression remained blank and all emotion left his voice. “Et Gsefx, you are hereby terminated from the employ of Galacticount and your credentials revoked. Your final paycheck will be delivered to your home address within five working rotations. This transmission is ended.”

“Wait! You can’t do this!” yelled Gsefx.

His screaming had little effect, however, since the vidcon screen had already gone blank.

As he sat there in stunned silence, the traffic began to move.

Henry counted the cash in his wallet, and then compared it to the amount due currently displayed by the cab’s meter. They were still more than a mile from his house and the meter was already demanding twenty-four dollars and thirty-seven cents, while he had just twenty-six in his wallet, along with an untold amount of loose change in his pocket.

“Stop here,” he said to the cabby. “I’ll walk the rest of the way.”

“You sure?” asked the cabby. “It’s awful cold outside.”

“Yeah,” he said with a sigh, “yeah, just pull over.”

Once the car had come to a stop, Henry handed the cabbie all of his cash, change included, got out of the cab, pulled his coat tight and began walking. As the cab pulled away, Henry focused all of his energy into walking a straight line, but he’d had a lot to drink and it was all he could do to defy gravity and remain upright, something he wasn’t always successful at that. Weaving, stumbling, shuffling, and sometimes falling, Henry eventually made it to his block, where he leaned against the stop sign at the end of the street to rest for a moment and gather his strength before going the rest of the way. Before going home to face Lucy.

Lucy was going to be angry, that much was a given. It was simply a question of degree, and whether or not he was drunk enough to deal with whatever she threw his way. He had a sneaking suspicion he wouldn’t be.

Henry took a deep breath and let it out.
How did I get here?
He thought.
How did I get to the point where I have no say over my own life?

Deep down he already knew the answer. It was why he couldn’t face Lucy without downing the better part of a bottle of whiskey first. If he had dug deeper, he’d have uncovered the realization that he’d never had any say over his own life. From a childhood marked by parental neglect and no real friends, to his loveless marriage with the controlling Lucy—a woman chosen more as a way out of his parent’s house than out of any true affection for her—Henry had been overlooked for most of his life and bullied the rest of the time.

The only thing that had sustained him was his art. Through drawing, sketching and painting the world around him, he had found a temporary respite, a brief sense of relief from the constant pain that enveloped his soul. But when he’d married Lucy, she insisted he quit tinkering around with his “silly hobby” and get a real job, one that paid real money. Henry reluctantly agreed to put away his pencils and brushes and focus on finding, and keeping, a “real” job. Now, however, with Jason’s encouragement, he was going to start again. He was going to stand up to Lucy and make her understand how important his art was to him. He had to make her understand.

“Well,” he said aloud after a few minutes, “standing here isn’t helping any, I’m only getting more sober. I might as well get on with it.”

Henry took a step forward and released his grip on the stop sign. At that very moment, a horn sounded from behind, startling him, causing him to lose his balance and fall to the ground.

“Hey you drunken idiot,” yelled a voice from the car that had sounded the horn, barely audible over the laughter coming from the same car, “what happened? Did they throw you out of the bar for being too damned ugly?”

More laughter from the car.

“Either that or they figured out that losers like him can’t pay their bills.”

The laughter turned raucous, followed by more jeers.

Henry turned to look at his admirers. It was a car full of college frat boys, out looking for an evening of trouble. He didn’t recognize any of them, and he didn’t want to be their source of fun for the evening. He got up and started walking toward his house.

“Hey,” yelled a voice that quieted the others, “where are you going? We’re not done talking with you.”

Henry heard car doors open, then slam shut, and feet running after him. He did his best to start running, but in his state, he knew he wouldn’t get far. It was only seconds before several pairs of hands grabbed him.

“That’s far enough,” said the leader, spinning Henry around. “It’s time to have some fun.” He grabbed a hold of Henry’s shirt collar, picked him up by it, and slammed him against a nearby tree.

“Perhaps …,” said Henry, trying to hold back a nasty burp. “… if I might … oh my … I really think you should put me down now …”

“Yeah, like that’s gonna happen,” said the frat-pack leader, pulling his fist back, “it’s time to say goodnight, drunk, because I’m about to turn out your lights.”

Henry didn’t actually say anything at this point, but instead, like anyone who’s had too much to drink and then been tossed around like a rag doll, he proceeded to spew the contents of his stomach all over his captor.

“Oh my God!” cried the leader. He threw Henry to the ground. “You sorry son-of-a-bitch … you’ll pay for this … oh God, this is disgusting!”

“Hey, I told you to put me down,” said Henry, still gasping. “I can’t help it you’re too stupid to understand English.”

“You’re a dead man! You’re gonna die and no one will ever find what’s left of you, if anyone even bothers to look.”

Lying there on the ground, looking up at this hulk of a man-boy, a being bereft of everything except testosterone and muscle, Henry knew he was about to get the beating of his life. Glancing down, he realized how close he was to the man’s knee, and without waiting to think about his actions, he pulled his leg back and kicked him with every bit of strength he could muster, then climbed to his feet and ran away as fast as his drunken state would allow.

The frat-pack leader let out a scream and dropped to the ground.

“Get him!”

Whether it was fear or adrenaline, Henry’s senses seemed to be somewhat clearer now, and he was more stable as he ran toward his house, although he still wasn’t moving that fast. He heard the footsteps of the frat boys chasing him and it wasn’t long before he could hear them getting closer. Fortunately, he was almost home.

“Lucy!” he said as loud as he could muster as he closed in on his porch, the cold night air burning his lungs. “Open the door!” At the same time he was attempting to get his keys from his pocket, but he was almost certain he wouldn’t have time to use them once he reached the door. “Lucy!”

He reached the door, grabbed the handle, and tried to get his cold hands to work the keys.

“Lucy!”

He finally got the right key and tried to fit it into the lock, but he was too late. Hands grabbed him by the arms and shoulders, forcing him to drop his keys.

“Lucy!”

“I don’t think Lucy’s home, old boy. Too bad for you.”

As they drug Henry off the porch, he saw the curtain to the front window slide open just enough for Lucy’s face to appear. She looked at him with eyes as cold as the ocean depths. Just before they pulled him completely into the shadows, Lucy smiled and blew him a kiss.

“I hope your affairs are in order, drunk,” said a voice in his ear, a voice that reeked of vomit. “This is going to be your last night on Earth.”

Henry closed his eyes. “Do your worst,” he said.

… You are hereby terminated …

The words reverberated in Gsefx’s mind as he unconsciously steered his vehicle toward his former place of employment. He was too stunned to do anything else. Traffic was moving at what could almost be called a normal pace now, but Gsefx hardly noticed. He even went so far as to turn into the Galacticount entryway before he realized what he was doing.

This can’t be happening,
he thought,
this just cannot be happening. It’s got to be a mistake or something. I need to talk to Xtlar. He’ll straighten all of this out. He’ll make Qilzar see reason.

Before he could get into the parking structure, the guard at the entrance gate waved him to a stop.

“Your credentials have been revoked, Et Gsefx,” the guard said as Gsefx opened his window. “I cannot let you in.”

“It’s all just a misunderstanding, Yklax,” said Gsefx. “I just have to go in and talk with Et Xtlar and we’ll get this all cleared up.”

The guard’s expression didn’t change. “I’m sorry sir,” he said, “I cannot let you in.”

“Yklax, it’s me, Gsefx. We’ve known each other for more than six turns!”

The guard’s face softened a bit. “Sorry Gsefx. I’d lose my job if I were to let you in. I can’t do it.”

Yklax made a small, barely discernible gesture, signaling Gsefx to look over his shoulder. Gsefx saw the camera pointing at them and noted the brilliant green light. They were being watched.

Gsefx gave Yklax a reluctant smile.

“I understand, Yklax.”

Yklax mouthed the word “sorry” as Gsefx closed his window, turned his vehicle around and headed out away from the Galacticount offices.

I need to speak to Xtlar,
he thought,
but flying around aimlessly won’t accomplish anything except frustrate me more. I need to find a place to park and think.
He thought for a moment before remembering the nearby shopping complex.
It’s not open yet, so it should be a good place to wait until Xltar is out of his early rotation meetings.

As he flew toward the shopping complex, Gsefx tried to figure out what had just happened. Until recently, Gsefx had gotten along reasonably well with Qilzar. He and his now former boss had worked together for nearly six turns with only a few minor run-ins. That changed during the last semi-turn when Gsefx received a promotion at the hands of Xtlar, Galacticount’s Chief Financial Officer. The promotion came after the successful completion of a particularly grueling project caught the CFO’s attention. Xtlar suggested to Gsefx’s boss that a promotion was in order, but Qilzar believed the work was simply part of the job and not grounds for any special treatment. Qilzar expected excellence as a matter of course, not as something to be rewarded. Xtlar promoted Gsefx anyway, dismissing Qilzar’s objections as nothing more than simple jealousy.

Appreciative of his new status and the significant raise in pay that came with it, Gsefx was completely unaware of the conflict between his bosses, although it didn’t take him long to realize something was wrong. Qilzar’s attitude toward him quickly took a dramatic change for the worse. Prior to the promotion, Qilzar had always been sure to point out even the smallest mistakes of his subordinates, but at least he had done so in a tactful way. Now, he delighted in crowing about every little error Gsefx made to everyone within earshot. Fortunately Gsefx was very good at his job and his mistakes were rare. The one area where Gsefx had difficulties was in getting to work on time.

Although he could partially blame his tardiness on the increasing traffic around Laxor, it was mainly his own fault, and he knew it. Gsefx rarely got enough sleep, often staying up late working, reading, or sometimes just piddling around with whatever his latest hobby happened to be. After a few rotations dominated by low levels of sleep, Gsefx would inevitably have difficulty waking up on time, ultimately leading to his being late for work. With all of the extra time he put in, his tardiness had never been an issue—until after the promotion. Now, just as with every other mistake Gsefx made, Qilzar was right there to let him have it.