Full Vessels

  Full Vessels

  Brian Blose

  Published by Brian Blose at Smashwords.

  Copyright 2016 Brian Blose. All Rights Reserved.

  This book is a work of fiction. Any similarities to real people, living or dead, is purely coincidental. All characters, places and events are used fictitiously.

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to amazon and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  About The Author

  Chapter 1 – Hess

  A flicker of nothingness, followed by garish yellow walls, brass lamps, knotty oak stained mahogany, and nautical paintings: a chintzy hotel conference room with delusions of resort-hood. Hess stood a single step into the room, frozen mid-stride.

  Where every other Iteration began with a download of fake memories from his current identity, this time there was only the realization that he still existed followed by the cacophony of a world crashing into motion from its freeze-frame beginning.

  Hess gasped in air reminiscent of lemon-scented furniture polish, salt water, and fried food. His heart thundered in his chest as he considered the wall paneling. This world appeared post-industrial and pre-electric. Of course, as Elza always pointed out, technological developments didn't always follow the typical sequence.

  Elza.

  Shaking palms smeared sweat across his clammy forehead. He shouldn't be alive after the end of last Iteration, but here he was. Hess squeezed his eyes shut. Did Elza live too? Or had the Creator respected their individual wishes, ending her while preserving him?

  Hess reached out a hand to steady himself on the wall, then took a knee. He lived. That should be enough. It had to be enough.

  Before he could regain control of his trembling limbs, a violent spasm seized his abdomen, catapulting a volley of bile forth to splatter across the floor boards. For a moment, his forehead rested on the hard floor. Then Hess rolled over to stare up.

  Up into the too-bright eyes of a dark-skinned man holding an uncapped pen like a dagger. “Fucking fantastic. The Creator made my death-day wish come true. I get to properly express my disappointment.”

  A memory fluttered to the surface of his mind. Hess squinted at the dark man above him, recalling the reverse of their current situation, with him standing above the other during the second Iteration. “Erik?”

  The maniacal smile warped into a scowl. “Hess? You are literally the only Observer not on my shit list. I've got so many feelings I want to talk over with my coworkers.” Erik made stabbing motions with his pen. “It's gonna be a fucking wunderbar conversation. Those suiciding pigs are gonna hurt so bad, Hess.”

  He pushed himself to his feet. “What makes you think the other Observers are here? We're the only two who wanted to live.”

  “Aw, did your tummy ache distwact you? Do you need me to read the literal writing on the wall? You know, the big fucking sign that says 'Executive retreat: discuss your observations for one week'? This right here is the perfect opportunity to fulfill my dying wish. I ever tell you that torture parties are my fave? Never got into sex or music or any of that shit, but hurting people gets me off every time.”

  Hess squared his shoulders. “You don't touch Elza.”

  Cold calculation registered on Erik's face for a moment. “Fine. Bitch built me a nuke, after all. The others are mine, so stay away unless you want to join in the festivities. I sympathize with your properly self-preserving ways and wouldn't begrudge you some vengeance.”

  “What about discussing our observations?”

  Sudden cheer lit up Erik's features. “Oh, there will be so much discussion over the next week. These pathetic creatures are gonna positively gush. I mean that figuratively and literally, Hess-a-roni. They will apologize, and explain themselves, and squirt blood everywhere. Only thing that could ever top the fun we're gonna have is if I didn't have to die at the end.”

  Hess grunted, then shrugged. “You don't want to die? Then stay behind when the world ends.”

  “Don't be ridiculous. That's just a different way to die. Might even be that losing one of us hurts the Creator, which is the only thing I'm not willing to do at this point. Show must go on or some shit.”

  “A world can't end until the last Observer leaves. I've stayed behind twice.” He took a deep breath. “And I'm doing it again in a week.”

  Erik's uneven squint grew more lopsided. “You fucking with me?”

  “No.”

  “Then why would the Creator make us believe going AWOL was a death sentence? Either you're fucking with me or the Creator lied.”

  “The dangers of staying behind were only ever implied. If I had to guess, I would say it was for our own good.”

  Erik's upper lip began to twitch.

  “You know how the others voted,” Hess said. “Imagine if they had been staying extra in each Iteration. The group suicide would have happened a lot sooner. By making us leave on time, the Creator extended the lives of the Observers who wanted to keep going.”

  Like sunlight burning away shadow, reason displaced rage. Erik blinked several times, nodded, and cracked a broad smile. “The Creator suspected some of us would be rejects. Fucking brilliant. How long do you think a world can support life? A million years? I could be content with a million. 'Spose you could ask your ex for a sciency estimate?”

  Hess blew out a hard breath. “I don't think we're speaking at the moment.”

  “Don't sweat it too much, lover-boy. I have it on good authority half the population possesses a vagina.”

  Before Hess could respond, the door to the conference room creaked open to admit a petite dark-skinned woman who stomped up to them radiating reckless indifference. He recognized body and attitude in an instant. It was San, looking exactly as she had the first time he met her in Iteration two; back then he had been wandering the world alone in search of Elza. They had identified each other as Observers when he passed through her village.

  Hess turned to study Erik. Both San and Erik looked the same as they had in Iteration two. “Am I wearing the same body as Iteration two?”

  Erik laughed. “Fuck no. You ain't that pasty albino.”

  “The two of you look exactly the same as the first time I saw you.”

  San shrugged. “More important, where's the booze? If we're ending it with an executive retreat at an island resort, I'm getting hammered.”

  “Suicidin' San. You're lucky, bitch, a minute ago I was ready to show you my game face.”

  “Did it
look like this?” San screwed her face up into a parody of mental derangement.

  Erik's eyes lit up. “How cute. You think you're a big girl.”

  San heaved a sigh. “I'll definitely need booze for this.”

  Hess interrupted their posturing. “Where are the others?”

  “They're here. Starting an Iteration in a room full of Observers is an odd experience. Just as we start recognizing each other, the hotelier reads us an instruction letter from our 'company chairman' about how we are supposed to discuss our observations for a week. Not too subtle, that Creator of ours.”

  “Are the other cowards too afwaid to face me?”

  San snorted. “I always thought the baby talk appropriate for your development level.”

  “Nothing 'bout me's appropriate. For example, I got this special technique I like to do. Burn every fucking millimeter of skin on a body. Then you smear them in shit and give them free reign of a basement with running water. They always try to clean themselves up at first. But something makes them stop before long. Never could decide if it was the pain or seeing their skin wash down the drain.”

  San rolled her eyes. “You don't say. Well, once while sailing through shark infested waters I saw a frenzy. It looked like someone replaced all the water with fins and teeth. Terrifying. So, me being me, I jumped in. I can't even guess how many times they ripped me to pieces. They didn't stop for almost a whole day. I developed an actual phobia from the experience. Two years later, I went back to chase that adrenaline high.”

  Erik sneered. “What, you saying I can't break you?”

  “I'm already broken. But yes, I think you overestimate your skills.”

  “Wanna test that theory?”

  Hess stepped between the two. “Where exactly are the others?”

  “Listening to the hotelier give a speech about the island. Industries and exports, that kind of thing. He's a sixth generation islander and oh so proud of his home. I'm not interested. I stopped observing the moment I cast my vote.”

  The next arrival stepped into the room. “Hey San, they got a bar in the restaurant. I put a couple bottles of gin on our boss's tab. Never thought the Creator would buy me a drink.”

  Hess identified the newcomer in an instant. Drake, wearing his Iteration two body and brandishing a bottle in each hand like a frat boy. As Drake approached, his eyes fixed on Erik and bulged. “Oh shit.” He tossed a bottle towards San and retreated back through the door.

  Gleeful cackles erupted from Erik. Hess rolled his eyes and followed Drake's path back into the hotel proper. As he walked, the layout became clear to him. The hotel was a multistory affair with a conference room attached to one side and a restaurant to the other, with a long hall on the first floor connecting the two. At the halfway point of the hall sat a double-door entrance overlooking a circular drive composed of faded paving stones, a check-in desk directly opposite the doors next to a public stair.

  From the echoing sounds of retreating voices, his group had just ascended. He hesitated there, unsure of himself until the front desk staff offered him a room key with a flourish. “You neglected to take your room key when you checked in, Mr. Hess. I trust the conference room passed your inspection? It is separated from the hotel proper by the breezeway, so there should be no danger of people overhearing confidential matters.”

  “So I'm already checked in?”

  “The porters took your things up already, and the rest of your party arrived on the second coach. The kitchens will deliver a welcome meal to the conference room in an hour. Until then, you are free to freshen up and unpack your things. We apologize for the inconvenience, but hot water is limited to after six o'clock due to a coal shortage. The barrier reef snagged the last barge and they refuse to send another until someone pays for what was lost at sea.”

  Hess studied the key on his way up the stairs. It bore a stamp indicating room 204, which sat conveniently close to the stair. He glanced each way down the hall but saw no one else. With a sigh, he entered to inspect his room.

  Cramped, hot, and yellow described the space. Hess didn't waste any further time inside. As he turned from re-locking his door, he noticed a woman frozen in the act of descending the stairs. He slowly straightened.

  She spoke first. “Everyone embodies the form they first encountered another Observer. That means Iteration one for us.”

  “Makes sense.”

  Elza nodded. “I'll see you at the meeting.”

  He watched her resume her trip downstairs, then re-opened the door and went to sit on the bed, head in his hands.

  Chapter 2 – Hess

  After fifteen minutes, he went downstairs. Elza sat in the conference room with San, Jerome, and Greg, which sent him retreating to the restaurant's bar where Drake, Griff, Kerzon, and Ingrid were availing themselves of the abundant merchandise. Kerzon smacked him on the back as he went to order. “Hey, last time all of us were together, we were watching Erik torture the shit out of you.”

  “I wasn't there,” Ingrid said.

  Kerzon waved that away. “Ya, but we thought you were.”

  Ingrid scowled. “We punished Hess in Iteration one four three for conquering most of a world. That was the end of it. You failed to justify your vendetta past that.”

  “Relax, Ingrid, we're all friends now.” Kerzon slammed an open bottle down in front of Hess. “See? I'll even share my whiskey. If Hess winks the right way, I might even take him to bed. You're damn easy on the eyes in that body, you know. I can see why you got the girl. Elza getting you, on the other hand . . . . Well, I guess that's a lesson in personal taste. No accounting, right?”

  Hess took a sip of the whiskey before passing it back. “Was that whiskey or kerosene?”

  “Right? It's all shit, everything I've sampled so far. Guess the Creator didn't spring for top shelf liquor.” Kerzon moved away to speak with Griff.

  Hess ordered a dry red wine, whose cardboard flavor revealed the bottle to be corked. He drank it anyway, standing beside Drake, neither of them speaking. This is going to be one hell of a week.

  Sometime before the hour was up, Natalia arrived and ordered a drink of rum with a wedge each of lemon and ginger. She saw his attention and raised her glass in toast. “All of this is quite unexpected.” Wrinkled skin hung from her twig-like bones, but she moved with a lithe grace that belied her appearance.

  Soon after, they followed a line of wait staff carrying tureens full of steaming food to the conference room. The entire group present, they piled plates full of fried fish, boiled potatoes, crab bread, and vegetable medley. Forks scraped plates and throats gulped.

  The noises of dining gave way to the sounds of gruff conversation. Kerzon and Griff, already drunk, competed in some game that involved coin flips and guzzling straight from bottles. Erik was busy terrorizing Drake. San spun a tale of skydiving without a parachute. All of them seeking to project their voice above the others. Hess settled back in his seat and waited for time to pass.

  Greg interrupted the party by climbing onto the table, moving with the casual efficiency of a sober man. He turned in slow circles, hands waving in a bid for attention. “Everyone, please let me speak. This is a conference, not a drinking contest. We can't expect to provide any value to the Creator if we treat this week as some sort of house party. I suggest we establish some ground rules to make this process more productive.”

  Kerzon belched. “Want me to stop drinking? Too bad.”

  Greg squinted down at him. “Let's meet in the mornings. Then you can have the evenings to fill any way you want. Does that sound fair?”

  No one responded. Greg spoke to Mel. “We'll start at nine in the morning.”

  Mel nodded. “Agreed. Are you leading our discussions?”

  “I would rather not,” Greg said. “My idea was to take turns presenting. If two of us go each day, we'll finish at the end of the week. The current state of intoxication leads me to believe that today will not be a productive meeting. So everyone should be prepare
d to present in the morning.”

  Griff squinted up at Greg. “Present what?”

  “Your most significant observations, whatever those might be.”

  Ingrid stood, speaking as she walked to the door. “I think that's an excellent suggestion. The last thing I want to do during my last week is participate in another Observer party. I'll see everyone at nine.”

  Hess followed her out and returned to his yellow room.

  Chapter 3 – Hess

  The complimentary breakfast consisted of bread, butter, and fruit preserves. Hess refueled his body in solitude, watching the people and other Observers from his corner of the room. After a tedious night, he felt the urge to escape the resort and explore the surrounding island. I'll look around after the meeting is over. I need to get the lay of the land if I'm going to spend time here after the others leave.

  After his meal, he found his way to the conference room and sat in a seat that presented a good view of the door. Greg, the only other occupant, sat near him. “Good morning, Hess.”

  “I wish it was, Greg.”

  “Can I depend on your cooperation?”

  Hess shrugged. “I'll speak when it's my turn.”

  “Would you keep some of our more reactive elements in line?”

  He snorted. “I would if I could.”

  Greg lowered his voice. “You are the only one who has ever been able to influence Erik. Given the circumstances of the previous Iteration, I believe his opinions of us have only been exacerbated.”

  “Erik will behave,” Hess said.

  “Apparently not. Last night, Drake discovered the severed head of a young man in his room. Before our conference even begins, he is murdering the locals and framing the rest of us for the crime.”

  Hess sighed. “Does Drake need help disposing of it?”

  “That was handled. What we need is for you to distract Erik.”

  “I can't promise anything.”

  “Just try.”