Nobody said a word since they entered the private elevator. Robert was losing his sanity as the ride to the top floor of the arcology went in sepulchral silence. Jeremiah, Amanda, and Robert avoided eye contact or small talk. The fearsome reputation of the Samson matriarch only intensified. Most organizations in this world gravitate around a linchpin. A three or four-star Archhuman who provided security and stability to the group. The Kraven clan had Janhalar Kraven, the Patriarch of Blood. And in the arcology, Titania Samson was the CEO and major shareholder of the corporate conglomerate.

Robert felt like a death row prisoner heading for his execution. What about the woman could be so concerning? She was powerful but so far the company she ruled seemed to be fairer than most. Should he expect her to be a monster without a hint of compassion, only caring for her bottom line and thinking that everyone was a tool to further her agenda? He had no idea. Everything he saw about Samson seemed fair and, he dared think, nice. So why the silence? Was it because someone was listening in secret? Was Amanda already saying her goodbyes to him? Now that he knew too much, they needed to dispose of him?

He entered the liminal void to think. It only made his issues worse because now he had two weeks to worry, dread, and wait. He went through his notes on the new branch of Life he would follow. Store biomass, learn how to reconstruct his body, how to reshape and improve himself, and prepare for the alchemical tempering bath that was probably ready for use.

Did Amanda give him the book already knowing what would happen? Was he a liability? Or was it because he made a pact with Cerebelon?

The ideas and worries swam rent-free in Robert's mind. His anxiety reached a new high. Robert liked to lie to himself he didn't have a choice when Cerebelon offered the new affinity. But the powerful Mental/Life eidolon was already treating Robert like a pawn.

Damn. His mind went back to the sin he committed in the Mollusk jungle.

*

*

Robert watched as Campbell was overcome by her greed. He knew he had to act.

"Kill the traitor," a voice rang in his mind. It was Cerebelon.

Robert dove into his Ethercosm. "What do you want?" He asked as his projection approached the shell with the brain spirit.

"A crossroads of fate lays bare before you. Kill the traitor woman, the belligerent one, or both females under your care will perish!"

"Do not harm them."

"It is not I who threatens the females but one of your own, Robert Baker. Do or do not. I am only here to help."

"What is the cost of this favor?"

"You need to learn to trust. Here in this shell, this shard of mine is but a willing prisoner. I cannot influence you. Only advise. But do not be fooled. My main body is still out there and I have means to keep watch over you. Kill the traitor, before she brings harm to the ones under your care."

Robert had no choice. He used his talent, put those worries on the back burner as he spent his liminal void time in solitude, and then killed Campbell. He gave her no choice, no time to realize her predicament.

He didn't loot the body. Campbell was left behind, dead, frozen in time. Disgusted, Robert's mood took a sharp drop for the rest of the trip.

But the spirit's words echoed in his mind. Cerebelon didn't even hide its agenda. Conquest. But if it wasn't too worried about Robert, then it was because of two reasons. One, creating the spirit that granted him a fourth affinity was cheap for it, and two, it had other agents.

A possible silver lining. Cerebelon would leave Robert alone so long he didn't go against the eidolon plans.

*

*

He had a fourth affinity now. Would it make the previous bath formula useless? Did they toss one million and two hundred thousand dollars down the drain? How could a herb bath be this expensive?

His mental state only slipped further and further down those countless rabbit holes.

When he returned to reality, a spell of nausea hit him. Robert braced himself against the elevator wall. The Samsons didn't spare a glance his way. If not for the fact he couldn't cross through solid objects in the liminal void, he would've run away. Probably.

The elevator dinged. The crystal display showed that they had reached the top floor. The doors opened, too slow and also too fast if Robert could voice his opinion. The other two went in first and Robert followed close behind.

They were in an indoor garden. Transparent panes let sunlight in. Robert doubted they were made out of glass. Trees and bushes and flower fields, some of them clearly alien were arranged in a way that was pleasant to the eye. The garden had five hundred feet in length and who knew what width. He couldn't see the end of it. and he was too afraid to enter the liminal void to check only to find the Samson CEO could follow him there.

They crossed the garden. They reached mahogany double doors. Jeremiah opened them. Robert saw a brief flash of light as the executive did that.

Classical paintings decorated a huge room with dozens of couches, tables, and buffet tables. A man in butler clothes bowed and led them to a gazebo. An indoor gazebo. They sat and the butler served tea from a pot that was already there. Robert didn't care. He inhaled the tea and found half his worries had vanished. What was that stuff? He was thinking so much clearer now! Was it even legal?

The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

And yet nobody spoke. Robert only heard his own tinnitus. He wanted to say something so badly but never did. The fool to break their little game wouldn't be him.

The butler refilled his cup. Robert drank it in a single go. Another refill. He took it slow now, savoring the amazing tea he would probably taste never again. And that even if his life didn't end there.

This time, he got no refills. The butler collected the used cups back in the cart and the Samsons stood up. Robert followed. The next room was narrow and had only one three-seat couch on each side. They sat, Robert to the left, father and daughter on the right.

The butler appeared again, this time from the other door. He said nothing. He just opened the double doors and bowed, with a hand pointing inward. They stood up and entered. It unnerved Robert. Why wasn’t anyone speaking?

The office was a thing of beauty and elegance. It had everything Robert thought an office should have. Couches for private meetings, a wide desk full of memorabilia and neatly organized paperwork that reached both far corners, a tall chair that was facing the other way, bookshelves, a corner, trophies and awards, a corner, an aquarium, another corner, a wall full of statues of naked women in varied Grecian styles framed by marble columns, a corner, a minigolf course and a bar with fancy spirits on display, a corner, two arcade machines, a beehive…

Wait. A beehive? And next to it was a bear—

“Why a beehive?” A powerful female voice asked as the chair turned.

Robert saw Titania Samson for the first time. She looked like Amanda’s twin sister. No, older sister. Slightly older, by one or two years at most. She exalted confidence, elegance, and authority.

“I’m flattered,” Amanda’s sister said. No, Titania, the centennial matriarch of and CEO of Samson Corporation. His boss' boss' boss' boss' boss' boss' boss' boss' boss' boss' boss' boss.

The younger sister smiled. Wait, wasn’t she supposed to be Amanda’s great-grandmother? Damn, she must have some kickass Archhuman powers to look this young.

“I’m really flattered,” Amanda’s immortal older sister who was actually her grandmother said. “I’ve never seen thoughts so pure.”

She stood up from the desk and went around. Her every move was calculated, gracious, and tantalizing. No, scratch that. She was the boss. Not in a million years he would.

“Devotion to duty. Amanda, I approve of your choice of bodyguard.”

Wait, she was speaking. Why wasn’t anyone else speaking? And why did the office now have a bear, wearing clown makeup juggling beer bottles while balancing on a giant beach ball?

“We are losing him. Better end the test here.”

The bear vanished, and the office changed in the blink of an eye. The desk was real, but everything else vanished, revealing an open and featureless space.

Amanda’s older sister aged fifty years.

“That’s… acceptable,” she said. “Time?”

The butler approached with a golden pocket watch in his hand. “Five minutes and twenty-one seconds, madam.”

*

*

“Excellent. Excellent,” the Samson matriarch said. Then she turned to the other Samsons. “You may speak now.”

Robert firmly believed this was some sort of prank.

Amanda, the real one, approached to hug her great-grandmother. “What did you think of him, granny?”

“Passable,” she chuckled. Robert kept his poker face.

"Granny!" Amanda protested.

"I will admit the guy has the devil's luck. No more."

That seemed to appease Amanda.

"I have some questions if you don't mind, young man," she said as she approached.

"Yes, ma'am."

*Why do you have four affinities?"

She could see that? Telling a lie or ignoring the question could have dire consequences. In a fairer world, he would call her on this rude intrusion of privacy. The fact she did that with such nonchalance meant she considered him their property, which only doubled the offense. Robert tried to answer but felt a knot in his throat.

"Because I found an opportunity and seized it."

She narrowed her eyes. "You were with my granddaughter. Why not give her the opportunity?"

"She didn't have the qualifications."

The old woman became enraged. She flew in his face. "You stole it!"

Robert went to the liminal void, turned around, inflated his sleeping mattress, and took a long nap. When he woke up, he read his notes on the flesh-shaping abilities, then a fiction novel, and finally, packed his things and returned to the same position.

"No, I did not." He replied after he returned to the real world. He fought to keep from glancing at Amanda. That would signal weakness.

"Do you want to work for me as an assassin? The pay is twenty million and a bonus on every successful mission."

"No, thank you for the generous offer."

"Useless mutt."

He didn't fall for her provocations.

"If Amanda tells you to kill someone, will you?"

"No."

"Insubordinate!" She cursed. "What use are you then?"

Robert met the old woman's eyes with stoic determination. "Is Amanda dead at the bottom of a five-mile drop on the other end of a passage, buried under a hundred tons of debris?"

Amanda gasped.

"Am I to believe she is not because of you?"

"She is alive, ma'am. I was with her. I cannot claim anything further without speculating."

"So, you don't mind if I dock your bonus for the passage incident, do you?"

"I am inclined to believe that telling you what to do is an exercise in futility at best, ma'am."

"Ha!" She cackled. "This is new. A stray picked up in the streets who know his place."

"On second thought, ma'am, you can dock my bonus and my pay. I am hereby giving notice, on article twenty-seven of my employment contract. I quit."

She threw a sudden punch. Robert used his talent to dodge. When he returned, the world seemed to fracture into a myriad of images that flowed like mirror shards.

He used his talent again. The illusions did not reach the liminal void. He took note of the other four people in the room and stood next to Amanda. When he returned, he put a hand on her shoulder and dragged her to the liminal void.

" What's the deal with your grandma?"

"I don't know!" Amanda winced. "I never saw her so riled up."

"Why the silence until she let you speak?"

"The office illusion. It works best if the person is off-balance. Mentally off-balance. The illusion shows you what you think should be in the office. I didn't expect the bear at the end."

"Me neither. But I thought it was so absurd that the next normal thing should be a juggling clown bear. The office also had seven corners."

"Are you serious about quitting?" She asked out of the blue.

"If your grandma keeps the act, then yes. I'm not a dog working for food scraps."

"I didn't – "

"She did!" He shouted. "The bear appeared because I felt like a clown." He wasn't so sure but it fit the narrative he was spinning.

"Let me talk to her," Amanda pleaded. " I will fix this."

Robert let silence be his answer. If Amanda wanted to give it a shot, so be it. They waited for half an hour in awkward silence, then returned.

"Already doing your love escapades?" Mrs. Samson raged immediately. "What's next, will you poison my own blood against me and elope?"

Robert didn't answer. His best move was to not play.

"Answer me!" She bellowed.

"Only if you tell me how did you know I had a fourth Affinity. And don't be disingenuous enough to tell me you were guessing."

"Bah. It's my talent! I can see quantifiable information about people, like how many evolved shells you have, how many affinities, how many people you killed, and how many times you masturbated thinking about having intercourse with my granddaughter!" She shouted, spittle flying everywhere.

Amanda lost the ability to breathe and made a sound like a dying giraffe. She also seemed to have developed the Blood affinity as she suddenly gained the power to store two pints of blood on her face.

"And the answer to the latter is zero!" Robert shouted back. It was sort of a lie.

The old woman sputtered, hacked, made a repeating sound like two wet rubber balloons rubbing against each other fast, then broke into a fit of cackles, bending over. The butler brought a chair for her to sit on.

"This guy–" she wheezed between chortles.

"--has no–" she giggled and tittered.

"--fear of death!" Mrs. Samson slapped her knee.

Actually, Robert cheated. He used prescience to see the consequences of his answers. Should have kept it on a bit longer, though. Rookie mistake.

"Kill him!" She ordered.