“Bring your A-game, students,” Kraid said. “Starting tomorrow, we’re going to find out the meaning of life.”
Helena rolled her eyes at the dramatic proclamation. She wished Kraid would spend less time planning the theatrics of his deed and more time actually doing the deed. She was on borrowed time.
“Patience, Helena.”
She flinched, in spite of herself. Kraid had snuck up on her like that a hundred times now, but it never stopped being scary. He put a lot of effort into making sure it didn’t.
“You are actually going to give me a heart attack someday,” Helena said.
“I know, that’s half the fun,” Kraid said. Helena glared at him, and he shrugged off her anger. “I’d fix you afterwards.”
“Sure you would,” Helena said. “How do you keep doing that, anyway?”
She’d deliberately hauled the paperwork into a different room than Kraid had told her to, to throw him off and make it harder to sneak up on her. He had, of course, done it anyway.
“Tracking device in your phone. And in your brace,” Kraid said, tapping a bony finger against the exoskeleton she wore. “But that’s not important right now. Do you have everything we need?”
“Right here,” Helena said, as she held up the documents. Kraid snatched them right out of her hands.
“Excellent. Let’s get this finished up.”
Kraid put the documents out of his arm, and led the way through a curiously quiet faculty building. As part of his new management, he had fired a lot of the old support staff. He fired another person he just happened to walk past on his way to meeting room, and threw open the doors to greet the waiting Board of Directors.
“Evening, ladies and gentlemen,” Kraid said. “How are the new devices holding up?”
Several members of the Board took deep breath with ailing lungs now revitalized by the latest Kraid Tech implants.
“Excellent, Mr. Kraid,” one of the board croaked. Even with top of the line accessories, the Board themselves were still old models.
“Good to hear. Now for your end of the bargain.”
Kraid slapped the papers down, spreading them out to various members of the board. Those still capable of moving their hands picked up pens and managed to draw lines on the paperwork that legally constituted a signature. Most of the Board had to use robotic assistance to move their own hands, but it still counted as a signature.
“There. You are now a full member of the Board,” they said. “Equal to us, in addition to your responsibilities as Dean.”
“Wonderful. Let me just check all that out for recordkeeping purposes.”
After picking up the signed paperwork and thumbing through it, Kraid nodded approvingly.
“Everything appears to be in order,” Kraid said. He put the paperwork away and pulled out a large remote. “It has been a pleasure working with you, gentlemen.”
Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
“Good, now-”
Kraid snapped his fingers, and the Board member dropped dead before he could finish his sentence. One by one the devices keeping the Board alive powered down, and the mechanical hum of artificial hearts and external breathing aides were silenced, along with the lives they sustained. Helena tried to contain a gasp of shock. She hadn’t been informed of this particular part of the plan.
As life after life was snuffed out forever, Kraid reveled in the dying breaths of the ancient Board, until he noticed one that was taking a little too long. He turned his head curiously towards the end of the meeting room table. The youngest member of the board, a sprightly ninety-eight year old man, was somehow still clinging to life.
“Persistent old geezer, aren’t you?”
“Why?” the Board member pleaded. “We would’ve given you...anything you asked for…”
“Oh, I know,” Kraid said. “But I would’ve had to ask. This just cuts out the middle man. More efficient, you know.”
Helena could not bring herself to look away as the last member of the Board had a look of dawning horror spread across his aged face. The members of the Board of Directors had all lived a century or more -lifetimes spent forsaking love, friendship, and joy in the pursuit of money, and then in pursuit of immortality. All that effort, all that sacrifice, wasted in an instant, all so one man could save a few seconds on his shopping. The last member of the Board had just enough time to realize the irony before he too was gone, sacrificed on the altar of Kraid’s impatience and greed.
Kraid didn’t even look at him while he died. Helena did. She kept staring long after what little light remained had gone out of his eyes -and someone else came along to move that light along even further.
No, no, I’ve had quite enough of you, Death said. He waved his scythe at the immaterial soul of a Board member to shoo it away. You’ve had more than your fair share of life already, now get on with it.
The presence of the reaper managed to shake Helena out of her stupor, and she took him as a welcome distraction.
“Is that how things are now?” Helena said. “No more negotiation?”
Helena my dear, there is always time for negotiation, Death said. There is not, however, a time for whining, and that is all this type ever do. I have no patience for those who fear me so much.
“So is that how it’s going to be when it’s my time?” Helena snapped. “‘Get on with it?’”
No. You, Helena Marsh, will get as many chances as possible, Death said. And should the time come when it is no longer possible, know that I will shepherd you with utmost care, profound regret, and the sincere hope that whatever awaits you on the other side is more fair to you than this life has been.
“Why,” Helena snapped. She grabbed at the brace on her arm, a mechanical assistance little different from anything the Board had used to sustain their own lives. “What’s the difference between them and me?”
Death shifted himself to face Helena, and bent down to match his starry blue eyes with hers.
Because you do not fear me, Death said. Because you do not run from death, you run towards life. A life where you can swim in the sea, run, eat and drink what you will, all without fear or pain. A long life, lived happily alongside those you love.
Helena averted her gaze, and Death stood up straight. He swatted another wayward soul away before it could ruin the moment.
You have hope, Helena Marsh, Death said. And so long as there is hope in you, there is hope for you.
Death tapped his scythe against the ground and began to walk away. Entirely for dramatic purposes, of course. It forced Helena to look after him as he left.
“And am I actually going to get that long life I want?”
Death turned around and locked his celestial gaze on her once more.
I hope so.