Hector worked out like a maniac before buying seeds from a lawn and garden store and picking up some fresh produce from a grocery. He was still clenching his jaw and trying not to think about the disrespect he had been shown in his sleep. No, not him, Volithur had been shown disrespect. For over a week of class. And Volithur had accepted his lot in life. Not that there was much else to be done as a medieval serf surrounded by asshole wizards.
He entered the hospital room to find his dad asleep and settled in to wait with the conspicuous bag of gardening supplies and fruits at his side. The life he experienced in his dreams had become more than a little tedious. While Hector had learned a good bit about cultivation that he could use, he also had his head stuffed full of ridiculous trivia like how loud you should laugh at a superior’s jokes.
The books Volithur had been instructed to read were nothing impressive, either. Volithur had progressed through half of them in just nine days. A couple of them were children’s primers on reading. There were bound essays on court behavior, jokes to be memorized in case you were asked to tell one, and tomes describing in painstaking detail what both he and Volithur considered to be very simple math.
The only book Volithur had seen any actual value in was the cultivation manual that outlined mental enhancement techniques. Though a prerequisite for using those techniques was attuning the soul to cosmic energy, gaining what was known as a first level soul.
Hector didn’t hold out much hope that Volithur would achieve a first level soul any time soon. His dream counterpart didn’t seem to have any natural talent for cultivation. Thassily had reached the first level a few days after drinking the elixir. Meanwhile, the Sergeant seemed to be losing his patience with Volithur’s slow progress.
“Did you bring the stuff?”
“Good morning to you, too, dad.” Hector reached into the bag and pulled out the paper envelopes the seeds had come in. “I got green beans, peppers, cucumbers, squash, cantaloupe, corn, pumpkin –”
His dad took the envelopes out of his hands before he could finish reading them. “I can read labels on my own, Hector.” With determination in his eyes, his dad opened each container, dumped tiny seeds onto his palm, and then dumped them onto the floor where they promptly collapsed into dust. The entire selection disappeared in two minutes, slowed only by the time it took a terminally ill old man to rip open paper containers.
“Not much life energy in seeds, it seems,” his dad said. “Give me the fruit?”
His dad ate one strawberry, then visibly drained the vitality from the rest of them until they appeared like dirty, desiccated husks. “That’s better.” In quick succession, grapes, a bunch of bananas, an orange, and a pineapple had the life drained from them.
Hector carefully placed the remnants of the fruit back into the bag so he could dispose of them without drawing attention to what they had done. “How are you feeling now?”
His dad sighed. “Hungry.”
“About time your appetite came back. What do you want?”
“Not the normal kind of hungry, Hector. The evil monster kind.”
“Dad, don’t be dramatic about this.”
“My soul started resonating with life after your last visit.”
“The Xian call that a level one soul.”
His dad rolled his eyes. “I’m not cultivating, Hector. I’m devouring. I don’t think I’ve crossed a point of no return yet. I could probably back off, exchange energy like an Alfar, and avoid the path of the Ogre. But then I die of cancer in a few weeks.”
“We can figure out the Ogre thing. This isn’t a primitive society. We have artificial fertilizers that can supercharge crop growth. You can beat cancer, reverse the aging process, and have fresh adventures.”
His dad sank back into the pillows. “I don’t think that’s how it works, Hector. I think once you go Ogre, you are just a vessel for the hunger. You feed until someone tries to stop you, then you rampage for a bit.”
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“This sounds an awful lot like a slippery slope argument,” Hector said.
“Slippery slopes take out a lot of elderly hips every winter.”
“Let’s not stretch the analogy too far. What do you want me to bring you tomorrow?”
His dad closed his eyes. “Nothing, Hector. I don’t think living longer is worth losing everything I value in myself. I just want to finish my dreams before the end. It would be a shame not knowing what happens.”
Hector bit back an argument. “So how are things with Deronto?”
“I think he’s going to join that cult of tree worshipers.”
“Is that a good thing?”
“Might be.”
Hector waited until he was sure his dad slept, then left the hospital. His thoughts bounced back and forth between the two issues consuming him. His dad’s only chance at life was becoming an Ogre, which everyone thought a terrible fate. The only method for him to gain cosmic energy was to use mental cultivation.
Whether or not Terry Thoreaux wanted to be an Ogre, the only problem that couldn’t be solved was death. Lack of cultivation resources from the Xian home world made it almost impossible for Hector to attune his soul to cosmic energy.
Thus he needed to convince his dad to keep absorbing life energy, which meant delivering fresh fruit to be drained daily. Since his mind was the only cultivation resource he had, Hector needed to enhance his abilities naturally.
Potted herbs would be a good life source to try, considering how they grew like weeds. Maybe some energy drinks and brain boosting supplements to boost his mental endurance.
The ping-pong back-and-forth continued unabated as he parked and walked into the warehouse. Upon entering his small office room, he promptly found himself confronted by the director of operations and the chief operating officer, who had claimed his seat and the guest seat. As he stood facing the two of them, his brain misfiring at the transition from life problems to work, the director of operations began the attack.
“It’s after ten, Hector. First shift starts at seven on the dot.”
The chief operating officer joined in. “We understand you have the situation happening with your father, but this has been going on for months now. You wouldn’t put up with this kind of thing from an employee, would you?”
Hector gaped at them, mouth open in surprise.
The director of operations leaned back in Hector’s chair. “We’re not going to make a big deal about this. No need for a formal write-up. Just a friendly warning and you right your ways. Make sure you are on premises at the start of shift from now on. Okay?”
The resentment that had built in his heart through every dream of Volilthur’s mistreatment boiled free of Hector’s heart. He leaned forward and slammed his meaty fist into the desk. “Who the hell do you think you are, Todd?” He turned his glare to catch the chief operating officer in his attack. “Same goes for you, Jerry.”
Hector reached across his desk, seized the director of operations’ tie, and pulled the terrified man towards him. “You have a problem with me working the hours I do? Do you, Todd? Maybe I’ll start working your hours, then. I can show up at eight every morning, take an hour lunch every day, and be at the golf course by five. I’ll let my shift supervisors handle any problems off hours like you do.
“Now that I think about it, this is a great fucking idea. I would really enjoy working less than eighty hours a week. No more showing up for Saturdays. Is that what you want, Todd? Huh? Are you going to answer me, you pathetic little shit?”
To one side, Jerry had plastered his back to the wall. “Hey, hey now, Hector, let’s calm down here. We didn’t realize how tense things were at home. Why don’t we all just forget this meeting happened?”
Hector turned to face the coward. “Fuck you, Jerry. I ought to resign on the spot. I have worked my ass off for this company most of my life and you want to barge into my office and lecture me? You’ve underfunded my department for decades and I have pulled off miracles daily to get the job done. This place would fall apart without me and right now I might like to see that happen.”
The COO’s face had gone ashen. “Please, Hector, don’t do anything rash. We were in the wrong here. I see that. Can I get you a gift certificate to your favorite restaurant as an apology?”
Hector stared down the man, enjoying the thrill of exerting his dominance for once. “Here’s my demands, gentlemen. If you want me to continue working at this company, then the two of you can do my job for the rest of today. Stay until midnight making sure everything gets out the door, then when I come in at this time tomorrow, we can have another chat to decide if I still work here or not. Quite frankly, I had enough money for an early retirement five years ago.”
The exultation he felt as he slammed the door on his way out of the room stayed with him the rest of the day.