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(EARTH)
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UNBELIEVABLY HE WAS at work. It seemed he had dozed off because Jas was shaking him awake, her blue eyes up close and curious.
“You were talking in your sleep,” she commented as he looked at her, dazed. “Something about magnets and fluid...”
That gave Caleb instant hope — perhaps it was all just a dream? But a glance down at what he was wearing, a suit he did not personally own, brought him back to reality and when he opened his clenched hand there were two tiny magnets in it. He sat up straight and looked around him.
All was quiet in the office with no one in sight except the two of them. On the wall behind Jas the clock read 5.40pm. Why was he still there? He never worked past five normally. He wasn’t paid to.
“Mr. Stinger is ready for you now,” Jas was saying.
“He is?” Caleb asked, surprised again. The boss was barely ever around, always in some other country doing something important. Even when he was in the building Caleb never saw him and certainly never met with him.
“They’re all there, ready for you,” she continued.
“Ready for what?”
“You’re joking, right?” she asked bemused. “You’ve only been talking about this opportunity all week driving us all crazy.” She smiled at him. “Really, you’ll be fine. They’ve as good as chosen you — this is just a formality, right?”
Thinking rapidly, Caleb said, “Jas...uh, I need to hear it from someone else...to really believe it’s real...please can you tell me again what this is about? Humor me. Think of it as you pinching me after a dream so I know I’m actually awake.” He smiled beguilingly at her.
Confused, Jas studied him then shrugged. “You’ve been asked to apply to be the lead researcher in the inquiry into the Thames case.”
Caleb nodded his thanks and frantically tried to recall everything he had ever heard about the case in question. He knew Peter Thames had been the Families’ Commissioner for five or so years, then questions had been raised over his use of some six million dollars of tax-payers’ money on research and development of programs that had never got off the ground. There had been rumors about his involvement with organized crime too. At the time, listening to the daily media reports and the evidence they were citing, Caleb had thought it sounded true. That had been some months prior and he believed the case was looming up soon, but he had had no idea their firm was involved in it. Putting away a scumbag like Thames would be quite an accomplishment though, he reflected, one worth putting on his résumé.
“Where are they?” he asked, quickly gathering up the things on his desk — phone, wallet, keys, and the various papers he had obviously been working on.
“Mr. Stinger’s office, you’d better hurry.”
He had never visited his boss’s office before. It was the penthouse, encompassing the entire top floor with views of the city in every direction. He checked his hair and attire in the elevator’s mirrored glass as it traversed the floors. He looked good — maybe this meeting was the real reason he was wearing a suit, not the crazy adventure he had been dreaming of?
When the elevator doors opened the effusive-looking assistant he had occasionally seen with Stinger was waiting for him. She led him into a stunning foyer, through a gorgeous drawing room of sorts and into a beautifully appointed office where three men awaited him.
There was Mr. Stinger his boss; tall, lean, a dynamo of energy and enthusiasm with a core of steel that you did not ever mess with. Another man, the company’s top lawyer, sat near the wide expanse of windows looking out. He was Robert Cochrane, the sharpest mind their firm had ever found, now working purely as an advisor. He was big and fleshy like a rotund Santa Claus, but no one would ever mistake him for something so harmless. Caleb had seen Cochrane at work in court once when he was twelve years old and just starting to become interested in law. The menace in Cochrane’s eyes when he questioned the witnesses had been a frightening thing to behold.
The third man was standing with his back to Caleb. As Stinger greeted Caleb he turned around. It was Peter Thames himself.
“Caleb welcome. Pull up a seat. We’ll get started,” his boss was saying.
Caleb sat obediently, trying not to look at Thames in case he inadvertently displayed his distaste.
Stinger continued, “It has come to our attention that you have an exceptionally sharp mind for research. You seem to be a natural. So we thought to ourselves, ‘That young man is worth watching, he’s a hard worker, he’s loyal to the company, he’s talented.’ Naturally then when Mr. Thames approached us for help, we thought immediately of you. Have you met before?” he added, waving at Thames.
Caleb was momentarily flattered Stinger would think he knew the infamous man, then realized belatedly it was a ploy intended to flatter him. He shook his head, no.
“Mr. Thames has come under unsubstantiated, vicious attack and requires our help with obtaining certain evidence to prove his innocence. We would like you to work with him to obtain it.”
“What sort of evidence?”
“He has been accused of embezzlement,” Caleb nodded his awareness of this. “But his opponent is a man with many skeletons to hide and it is those skeletons that require exposing to free Peter from such false allegations. That man is Leonard Miller.”
“Miller?” Caleb asked incredulously. As far as he knew, Leonard Miller was a saint. A pastor of a sound, philanthropic church, happily married for twenty or so years with five nice kids who had all grown up to serve their communities in various ways.
“Miller,” Thames echoed him, speaking up for the first time. There was contempt in his voice. “He is not what you think. I have evidence on him, important evidence which the public needs to know — but I cannot be the one to release it. It would lose all its credibility. I need you to ‘find’ it, to bring it to the attention of the public on behalf of Stinger and Harper.”
“This may seem a simple task,” Stinger took over smoothly, “but it’s certainly a significant one and we will not forget it or fail to reward you in due course.”
Caleb said slowly, “May I clarify? What you want me to do is take the evidence you’ll give me yourselves and contact the media to release it, ostensibly on your behalf, which will discredit Miller and potentially annul the entire case against Mr. Thames?”
This time the lawyer, Cochrane, answered. “Yes, this is what you will do. We believe you capable of doing this in such a way that it doesn’t touch either our firm or Mr. Thames. We require complete deniability. Prove yourself to us on this and there is no limit to where you can aim in this company.”
“And if I don’t do it?” Caleb asked carefully.
Stinger sighed. “This is a simple thing we ask of you and if you can’t do it, we will need to reassess our faith in you.” He spoke slowly as if Caleb was having trouble understanding him, but the only thing Caleb was having trouble understanding was how they thought they could get away with sullying the near-perfect Leonard Miller. “We are not asking you to do something any one of us wouldn’t do given the chance if we could. If you won’t do it, it will be hard to see you as a continued friend of our organization...” The threat of expulsion hung in the air between them, unspoken but implicit.
“Can I think about this?”
The three men exchanged quick glances with each other. The lawyer nodded imperceptibly and Stinger answered, “You have twenty-four hours to decide. Give me your answer by 6pm tomorrow. Call this number.”
He handed Caleb a small business card. The meeting was obviously over then for Cochrane and Thames turned away and Stinger nodded at the door out. None of them said goodbye as he left.
In the elevator on the way down, Caleb realized it was Friday, October 29, his mother’s birthday. That, no doubt, meant some sort of party which he would be forced to endure knowing now what his mother had done. He was desperate to know whether his father or any of his siblings knew about her infidelity.
He found his car in the parking garage in its normal spot and headed for home. On the way, he dialed his younger sister Aimee’s mobile. She answered immediately with, “Caleb, where have you been? We’re all waiting for you!”
“I’m on my way...who’s there?”
“Only everyone. Mum, Dad, Sam, Sarah, Julie...and a whole lot of Mum’s friends.”
“Be there in ten.”
A ‘whole lot’ of friends was certainly not an exaggeration he thought wryly, as he pulled up to his family home ten minutes later. The street was littered with vehicles, mostly expensive Land Rovers and BMWs. His mother’s wealthy friends were out in force. He sat in the darkened car for a few minutes trying to sufficiently collect himself to go inside. There was so much to think about he did not know where to start. He would have to get through this party first and see his lying, cheating mother. Then he could think about his work. That decided he made himself go in.
The party was already in full swing — it certainly didn't seem as though anyone had been awaiting his arrival at all. His three sisters and younger brother were all having a merry time playing a crazy board-game with a few of his mum’s friends. Several of her female cronies were clearly already quite drunk, laughing outrageously with his mother by the pool bar just through the open doors. He studied her unobtrusively for a few minutes before she saw him. As he watched, he noticed her eyes flick to her right several times and curious, re-positioned himself to see why. To his shock there was Professor King, the man his mother was having her affair with. She looked around and saw Caleb, then smiled lovingly at him. He turned away disgusted.
He successfully avoided his mother for the next few hours, drifting around the party, trying to quiet his racing mind and furious emotions with nibbles, drinks and mindless conversations. He figured there were at least seventy people there, many of whom he had never met before including the professor. Most of them did not interest him but after a while he noticed an extremely pretty woman watching him. She looked strangely familiar, yet he couldn't place where from.
Feeling bolder than normal, perhaps because of the drink, he went directly to her and said, “Hi, I’m Caleb. And you are?”
“I’m Ruby. This is your mother’s party, right?”
“Right,” he smiled and she returned it with a beautiful smile of her own. “How did you end up here?”
“Oh, I’m staying with my aunt tonight. She dragged me along.”
“What do you do with yourself, Ruby?” he asked, guiding her outside to one of their strategically placed garden seats.
“I just finished university for the year. I’ve been studying politics. I’m working in a restaurant for the summer though. What about you?”
“I just finished fourth year law. I work for Stinger and Harper part-time.” Then, because he wanted to impress her and because the drink had loosened his tongue, he added, “Actually I just got offered a promotion to head up the research into the Thames case. Are you familiar with it?”
“Sure, I’ve heard about it. What sort of research are you doing for it?”
So he told her all about the meeting he had just had and the choice he had to make. She was a good listener encouraging him to keep talking with just the right questions and tilt of her head. She had pretty green eyes; he kept talking to keep those lovely eyes focused on him too.
When he was finished, she asked, “So what are you going to do?”
It was a good question. Either decision had its pros and cons. To go along with it was to help a most-likely guilty man get away with his crimes yet it would mean keeping his job, probably getting the implied promotion. To refuse was to keep his conscience intact but lose his job. And in this town, damaging your reputation with a law firm as prestigious as Stinger and Harper was professional suicide. That choice could spell the end of his career as a lawyer — unless he was prepared to move far, far away and start again.
“Are you alright?” Ruby interrupted his reverie, bringing him back to the present.
“Fine. I was just thinking of my choices. I don’t know what I'm going to do yet...”
“Surely there’s an obvious moral choice here?”
Surprised by the sudden sharpness in her voice, he put his hands up exaggeratedly to defend himself. “There’s more to it than that. There’s a huge price I would pay for saying no.”
“Yes, but you would have the inner peace of knowing you’ve done the right thing.”
“I don’t know if that will be enough when my career never gets off the ground because they blackball me,” he replied grimly. “Look, let’s talk about something else. You look like this is upsetting you.”
“Actually, I have to go,” she said, rising to her feet but smiling to take the edge out of it. “I have a breakfast date — with my father,” she added quickly at his crestfallen expression. “And I am pretty tired so I want a decent sleep. Perhaps I will see you around?” It was a question to go with the hand she offered tentatively for a shake.
“I would like that,” he agreed, grinning back. She nodded, released her hand from his and started to walk away. “Wait,” he called after her, “How do I get in touch with you? I don’t even know your last name...”
She stopped at the door and turned slowly to face him. “It’s Miller, Ruby Miller,” she said deliberately, slowly, then smiled, turned and left. Comprehension came too late and when he ran after her she had already gone. He had recognized her because he had seen her on TV with her father, Leonard Miller, the man he had been asked to expose.
The party went from bad to worse after Ruby left. His mother was drinking too much and becoming louder and more flamboyant with her friends. His father was watching her fondly, oblivious to the other man who was also watching his wife — the professor. Caleb had a few more drinks too, growing angrier and angrier: with his mother for being so deceitful, with his father for being such a fool and with himself for being so careless with his words to Ruby.
It was around midnight when his mother finally caught up with him. About half the party had left by then and the rest were sprawling, most of them semi-drunken, around the pool and in the garden nearby. He was sitting silently with Aimee, his favorite sister, listening to her chat with two of her friends. His mother approached from behind saying lightly, “Caleb, I’ve barely seen you all night my son.”
“I’ve seen you,” Caleb muttered, thinking of her and the professor. He looked up and there was the man himself heading towards them.
“Oh hi Professor King,” his mother said gaily. “Have you met my children? Here are two of them — Aimee and Caleb.”
Aimee responded with a friendly hello; Caleb looked at the man but remained silent.
“Caleb,” his mother said, leaning down to speak in his ear. “Don’t be rude please. Say something to Professor King.”
“What would you like me to say?”
“Well I don’t know, something polite...”
“Okay,” he shrugged and faced the other man. “So Professor King, how do you know my mother?”
He did not miss the quick glance the man shot at her. “We met at a charity event a few years ago. She is a great supporter of charities your mother.”
“Yes, she is. And how well do you know her Professor?” He could not keep the sarcasm out of his voice. Not that he was trying.
“Caleb,” his mother’s reprimand sounded unsure. Aimee was staring at him puzzled, her conversation with her friends abandoned.
“It’s a simple question Mum, how well do you two know each other?” He got up now and stood facing his mother, hands thrust in his pockets to hide their angry shaking.
She was silent. Behind him the professor said carefully, “It’s okay Suzanne...Caleb, your mother and I are good friends.”
“Caleb, why are you being so weird?” Aimee asked.
“Because I know that they are more than friends — I’ve seen photos,” he said.
His mother went white instantly and Aimee gasped. From behind him a new voice asked shakily, “Suzi, is that true?” Caleb turned quickly, immediately regretting his words at the sight of his father’s shocked face.
His mother stayed silent but her distraught face said it all. The professor began to speak and Caleb’s dad, Rick, silenced him with a brusque wave of his hand. “Stay out of this,” he said fiercely. He took a step forward and Caleb got out of the way. “When Suzie? When did it start?”
She found her voice, “Last year...”
“The year before,” Caleb interrupted, recalling the dates on the photos.
“How do you know this?” his dad asked urgently.
“I saw photos.”
“Where?”
“An investigator’s place, connections to my work.”
“Is it true? Have you been with this man?” he faced Suzanne again, his voice rising, starting to sound hysterical.
She looked at Caleb for just a second, then shrugged imperceptibly, acknowledging her defeat and admitted it. “Yes, I have. We are...were in love.”
The professor and everyone else left then at Rick’s request, which was more a demand. The family was abandoned with the bombshell.
The devastation was immediate. Suzanne wept, Aimee fled to her room then came out red-eyed and white, Sarah and Julie took turns crying and talking quietly to each other while watching everyone else. Sam got angry, questioning their mum ruthlessly. Rick cried and pleaded with Suzanne to explain herself, to give her reasons, to tell him why. Caleb was the most silent of them all, sitting back stoically as the rest of them went over and over everything. Eventually he went to bed, leaving them to it.
He dreamed he was in a hot, dry, dusty land. He was running from a large crowd of people and he was terrified. He knew they were going to catch him. When they did, he felt many hands grabbing him roughly. It made his skin crawl and he tossed and turned in his bed, trying to literally get away.
Then he was, unbelievably, hanging on a cross. His arms were tied above his head and his feet were stuck to the wood below so he could not move. The pain was terrible. In the crowd before him he could see people from his life, including many of those who had hurt him in some way over the years. They were chanting something but he could not understand what it was.
Until he saw his mother right near the front with the professor, smiling up at him. They were chanting too and when he listened very hard, this time he picked up the words. They were chanting, “Forgive me.”
As soon as he understood the cry, his body was released from the cross and he started flying, out over the crowd. When his body stopped, hovering in mid-air, he looked back at where he had been. There, nailed to the cross this time, was a Middle Eastern man: dark hair, dark skin, dark brown eyes, wearing a loin cloth and a crown of vicious thorns penetrating deep into his brow, causing feathery trails of scarlet blood to flow down his face. He was in bad shape, his body dark with dust and bruises and more blood splatters, his face racked with the pain of the nails through his hands and feet.
The crowd was chanting again. This time it sounded like, “We don’t want you!” Caleb started yelling at them to stop but they kept shouting, getting louder. He tried to change his dream, stop it, get out of it — but couldn’t.
Suddenly the man raised his head with great effort and looked straight at Caleb. “Bitterness will kill you Caleb,” he said in a clear, strong voice. “You must let it go. You must forgive.”
“Her?” Caleb asked incredulously, instantly understanding what the man meant, looking straight down at his mother.
“She had her reasons. She needs help, not hatred.”
In his dream, Caleb stared at the man on the cross for a long time. Eventually, he said, “I can’t give her help, or forgiveness. And nor do I want to.”
Then he woke up.
He was covered in sweat, full of nerves, with a strong sense of destiny on him — so strong in fact that he could barely move. This was not just a dream; this was a decision he had to make. Perhaps to get him back to Kainnan? He had to forgive his mother for what she had done because there was a context to her choice. There were things that had driven her to it; reasons that could help him understand, give him perspective that might enable his forgiveness. Surely that was what the man on the cross had meant?
Was that enough? He didn't know. He needed time to think. Yet time was undoubtedly one thing he didn’t have.
