The Aeschylus

1

They ran out of gas about thirty miles off shore. The boat had two oars, one of which was badly chipped and cracked, but the paddles saved their lives. It took them almost a full day to reach the mainland once the engine died, but arrive they did. By that time, they were both on the verge of collapse. They were exhausted, sunburned, dehydrated, starving. But alive.

There was no coast guard to bring them in, no rescue tankers, no cruise ships, no children playing on the beach. They arrived to a stretch of coast as ancient and deserted as the dead shores of the whaling docks. The white sand could have been beautiful once, but at present, it only looked dirty, littered with driftwood and the bones of dead fish.

None of this mattered.

When the boat finally washed up onto the beach, Kate rolled off its side and screamed with joy. For a long time, she could do nothing but grab handfuls of the muddy earth and let it slip between her fingers. AJ laughed hysterically as he dropped to the sand and then joined her, throwing his arms about her waist. He held her until they had both decided it was time to move on. It seemed like hours before it did.

AJ took out his key chain; his key chain had a compass. They had traveled northwest towards the coast, and though they didn't know it, they had traveled into the light. Darkness still enveloped the island, but the night had already come and gone on the mainland. They arrived at dawn, the sun greeting them like an old friend.

With some measure of serendipity, the boat landed less than ten miles from the place they originally departed. Having no knowledge of the land nor its people, they decided they should walk north to the old church while they still had the strength. When they arrived — around midday this was — they found it deserted. The old padre had gone, if he had ever been there at all.

They spent the next hour exploring, looking over the grounds, into the bunk house, into the chapel. This latter still had a hole in the floor, exposing the basement Mason had toiled so hard to uncover. When Kate went down, she found the cellar was devoid of Black Shadow's guns, but it was stocked with food and bottled water. She didn't know if it had been put there in preparation for Mason's return or if the old father was preparing a fallout shelter, but she didn't care. The food would keep them alive.

They feasted on Evian, canned beans, crackers, dried fruit, and jerky. AJ found a case of Coke, which he opened with another knickknack from his key chain. Kate thought it was the sweetest thing she had ever tasted.

When they were finished, they slept for an hour inside the cellar. It was cool down there, but when the stone became too uncomfortable, they moved to the bunk house and collapsed into the pastor's bed. Some hours later, they made love. Not for the joy of the act, but because for a time, they could do nothing but clutch at life as if they were drowning, and because it killed thoughts of everything else. Kate was the one who prompted it, starting by touching AJ's face, and then his neck, and then pulling him to her like he was the last man on earth. For all they had seen along coast, perhaps he was. They tore at each other, rolling backwards and forwards, sweating and clawing and biting in the heat. Someone watching might have thought the behavior oddly imitative, though thoughts of this nature never entered either of their minds.

When it was over, AJ sat on the edge of the bed, and Kate ran a hand over his shoulders. She had left claw marks along his back, red and angry on his pale skin. She thought she might have the same. She might have bruises along her throat, the spot where he had squeezed her as he climaxed.

“We can't stay here,” he said finally.

“I know.”

“When we flew in the first time, I think I saw a village further up. If we can make it there, someone is bound to have a phone.”

It sounded like the right thing, but neither one of them moved for a long time. She continued stroking his back, rubbing those angry spots where her nails had left marks.

“Kate?” He turned to her, and she marveled at how normal the moment seemed. If she could, she thought she would hold onto it forever.

“Yes?”

“When you go back. I'm going with you.”

“You are?”

“No one should have to face them alone. Valley Oil, I mean. So I'm going whether you want me to or not. And I have a feeling that if I don't, no one will believe what happened here.”

And then she did move, rising up out of the bed and throwing her arms around him. She didn't know if this thing they had meant anything, or even if she would have been able to stand him in her normal life, but for now, it was real. She needed something real if she was going to go back to that other world. She thought they both did.

2

It was raining as the old man got out of the car, the estate grounds drenched in shades of gray. He was tired to the very core, his old bones creaking in the wet weather. His valet Andrew opened the door for him, and he stepped out, waiting for the younger man to unfurl his umbrella. When he didn't, Godfried asked where it was.

“I didn't bring it today, sir. I'm sorry. The forecast didn't call for it.”

“Damn the bloody forecast,” he said, hobbling to the walk. “I'm calling the company tomorrow. You'll be out of a job by morning, you bleeding sot.”

The man flushed, staring after him as he made his way to the house. Godfried almost regretted saying it, but then thought, the hell with it. He didn't like the kid, and the rain was making him feel rotten.

Ahead, he saw that the porch light was on, but the walk was deserted. Where was the door man? He opened the doors himself.

“Martha? MacNab?” He smelled a roast cooking and thought maybe they were in the kitchen. Still feeling too surly for company, he went to the stairs, thinking he'd go to his office first and have a drink. It wouldn't be long before he'd need an elevator to get to the second level, but he thought he'd drown himself before he allowed that to happen. For now, he was hale and healthy for a man going on eighty, and he intended to keep it that way.

“Martha?” he called again. She wasn't much good any more, but he did like looking at her ass, even if she was going on middle-aged.

Instead, it was Chester who came to say hello. The retriever paused to lick the old man's hand, then went on downstairs. Just passing through, don't mind me. “You're as bloody useless as the rest of them,” he said, but he didn't mean it. His dogs were the only loyal servants he had in this place.

When he got to his office, he flicked the light switch, but no light came on. A manila envelope dropped onto his desk, and he spun, seeing a shadowed figure standing behind it.

“Your reflexes are pretty good for an old man, Godfried.”

“Who's there?” he demanded.

She stepped forward then, allowing the light from the hall to graze her face. It was sharp, that face, a lot harder than the last time he had seen it.

“My father never gave you this, did he?”

Godfried felt himself smile. He had thought someone might have broken in, but it was just this girl, and hardened or not, she was still his goddaughter. “Did I ever tell you that he did? I mean explicitly tell you?”

She grunted. “A lawyer's answer. You let me believe it.”

“You drew your own conclusions.”

“You deceived me.”

“You let yourself be deceived.”

She rounded the desk, but he stood firm. Old or not, he would not be pushed around by this girl, and deep down, she knew he was right. Had he forged anything in Stan McCreedy's name? Faked his signature? No, of course not. He had given her a few photographs and made some vague references. Her mind had done the rest.

“You were there, weren't you?” she asked. “You had just gotten back from out of the country the last time I saw you. You were there.”

“That's company business, Katelyn.”

“That's my business!” she yelled.

“You always did have a temper,” he said, cocking his head into his patented gunslinger stare. It was enough to shut most people up, if they knew better

“You saw the fungus on The Aeschylus, and you had your own team of researchers analyze it. You kept the results hidden from the company.”

“How do you know that?”

“The guest log on the platform intimates as much.”

He paused. The documents were supposed to have burned in the fire after the accident, but he supposed anything was possible. He had signed them, after all.

“So what?”

“So what?” she bellowed. “Do you know what's happened? Do you have any idea?”

“I know we have a hell of an insurance claim to file, if the newest satellite images can be trusted. And unfortunately, we have ended our business relationship with Black Shadow. They wouldn't issue us a refund, being the hooligans they are. It's quite a mess out there, from what I'm told.”

Kicking the desk aside, she came to stand two inches from his face. She wouldn't touch him though, she couldn't possibly be that dumb.

“Two hundred and fifty people are dead, Godfried, including friends of mine, and you could have stopped the whole thing.”

“I did what was best for the company. Shutting down that operation would have caused a catastrophe. For what, a fungus? A growth on the beams? You've got to be joshing.”

“That story would almost make sense, if you hadn't had your own biologists analyze it.”

He paused, hearing the voracity in her words. Maybe he would have to do a little negotiating after all. “Look, dear.”

“Don't you dare call me that!”

“Katelyn, darling,” he said. “There are some risks you have to take. The oil reserves won't be around forever. The fact we're drilling at the ends of the earth should be enough to tell you that. When the wells do run dry, what do you think is going to happen? Other companies are investigating alternative energy sources, and so are we. Maybe it was a bit rash making a judgment call like that, but imagine if it worked! Imagine if we did find an organism that could literally replace crude as a form of energy. Think about it!”

“It wasn't up to you!”

“What the board doesn't know won't hurt them. As far as they know, the place fell victim to an oil fire. That's certainly what it looks like from the satellite photos, and now that the pre-fire investigation has been botched, they might never know. Isn't that right?”

“And me?” she asked. “And me, Godfried? What were you going to do with me?”

“I'm sorry. I protect the company, Katelyn, that's what I do.”

“And my four hundred thousand shares couldn't hurt, could they? Because in the event of my death, I'm sure my father would have willed them to you.”

Well, there it was: the ugly truth. Now, when it came to bending truth, Godfried was a world-class athlete. With just the two of them here, however, what was the point? “As you say.”

“As you say,” she mimicked, her eyes narrowing. But he thought he saw something in those eyes, something he didn't like. “They'll know.”

She stepped away from him then, taking out her phone and pressing a button on the interface. It took him a moment to realize she had been using it as a recording device. He would have expected a tape recorder, but maybe he was just old-fashioned.

“Katelyn, honey. You know that's not admissible. And you know I'm going to get it from you before you leave the room.”

“It may not be admissible on its own,” she said, “but eyewitness testimony is.”

“What?”

From out of nowhere, five other figures stepped out from behind the curtains, from behind the shelves, from inside the closet. Godfried looked around, confused.

“What?” he seethed. “In my house?”

As the figures came forward, they began to take shape. They looked like his security. Only they weren't his security per se. They were Valley Oil's security, and they did not look happy.

He stared at MacNab, who had stepped in front of the rest. The man had his service revolver by his side. “Take him,” he said.

“Collin! What the bloody hell do you think you're doing?”

A guard walked towards him brandishing handcuffs.

At the same time, his goddaughter sidled up next to MacNab and kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you, Nabby.”

“It's the right thing.”

“You're a good man.”

“I know,” he said, smiling.

Another man stepped in behind her, and she turned to throw her arms around him. This was a different sort of embrace, one far more intimate. Godfried saw that the man had flaming red hair.

“You!” he yelled. “I know you! We fired you! We fired you! You're supposed to be dead, do you know that?”

“Yeah,” the man said. “Funny, but I think the shoe is on the other foot, now.”

“Goddamn you!” Godfried screamed. “You're not getting away with this… any of you!”

He suddenly felt very dizzy. What a mess this was. What a mess this ungrateful girl had brought down upon his head.

Security dragged him through the hall, down the stairs, and out the back door. They had a car waiting, all gassed up and ready to go. As they passed under the awning, they entered the open air, and Godfried was covered in the freezing rain he hated so much.

Katelyn would have her way after all. She would blow this thing wide open.

Katelyn.

Her father's daughter.