of brothers, but you can’t do anything else now but help him die with dignity.”
The doctor stretched out his hand to say goodbye. It wasn’t acknowledged so the Doctor left the room. Joseph looked down at the patterns on the carpet, the inoffensive grey and pink swirls designed to mute the sounds of suffering this room witnessed every day. He pushed his fist against his temple as if to crush the negative thoughts. There was still one chance, but he couldn’t tell the doctor that. Pentecost was not far away and with the power of the stones, he could still save his brother from this wasting death. Varanasi had demonstrated that miracles could flow from the power of the stones, now he just had to understand how to harness them. Joseph stood and pulled his Armani suit jacket straighter around him. Setting his shoulders square and his face to a mask, he went back to the main ward to see his brother.
Joseph pulled up a chair next to Michael and began to talk to him in a regular ritual he had performed for years. Sometimes he reminisced about their childhood, but generally he talked about what was on his mind, another day in the life of a rich businessman, politician and pillar of the community in Tucson, Arizona. There were the usual immigration issues, the attempts to jump-start the housing market and protestors outside his office concerned about water in the desert region. He had posed as an academic, a researcher, to get close to Morgan Sierra, but academia was far from his real life.
Michael had become a diary of sorts, a soul into which he poured his own heart so that when he left, he felt lighter, emptier. It didn’t matter that the words seemed to wash over his brother, who never spoke or even moved. Joseph was devoted to his brother; anyone at the facility would say he was the most caring and regular visitor to the ward. Michael did not want for anything, but then he didn’t require much. He was fed the best food and had access to top of the line medications and psychiatrists, but it seemed that nothing could be done to make him better. Today Joseph leaned in close so the nurses couldn’t overhear him and spoke quietly.
“I’m going to take you on a trip soon Michael. I’ve found a way to help you, I just need a little more time. But don’t worry, it won’t be long now.”
He gently stroked his brother’s thin hair and looked out into the garden where each twin saw worlds that no one else was aware of.
Joseph never stayed long at the hospital and was soon on the road again in his SUV, heading back to his home office. Working from his house in The Foothills outside Tucson allowed him the privacy he needed for his businesses and other projects. He had people who managed his offices in town and he had cleared his schedule for the next few weeks in order to focus on Pentecost. He felt some anxiety as there were too many variables right now and the situation was not entirely under his control. He was worried about the Thanatos group who were also pursuing the stones. Their evident determination, superior resources and firepower meant he had to bring ARKANE and the academic Morgan Sierra into the mix. He had been loath to do it but the frankly unexpected miracles of Varanasi meant he could no longer keep the quest secret from those who watched such events. He didn’t know much about Thanatos except that they would go after the stones whatever the cost. He expected them to follow Morgan’s trail first, but they would be after him eventually. He grinned then, his perfect orthodontic teeth flashing in the sun. He would release the power of the stones at Pentecost when the comet was closest to earth and he didn’t care if they took them after that, as long as Michael was healed first.
As he drove, Joseph thought about what had brought him to this moment, how the past had shaped this quest and transformed his brother into a living ghost. The twins had been late additions to a miserable
The doctor stretched out his hand to say goodbye. It wasn’t acknowledged so the Doctor left the room. Joseph looked down at the patterns on the carpet, the inoffensive grey and pink swirls designed to mute the sounds of suffering this room witnessed every day. He pushed his fist against his temple as if to crush the negative thoughts. There was still one chance, but he couldn’t tell the doctor that. Pentecost was not far away and with the power of the stones, he could still save his brother from this wasting death. Varanasi had demonstrated that miracles could flow from the power of the stones, now he just had to understand how to harness them. Joseph stood and pulled his Armani suit jacket straighter around him. Setting his shoulders square and his face to a mask, he went back to the main ward to see his brother.
Joseph pulled up a chair next to Michael and began to talk to him in a regular ritual he had performed for years. Sometimes he reminisced about their childhood, but generally he talked about what was on his mind, another day in the life of a rich businessman, politician and pillar of the community in Tucson, Arizona. There were the usual immigration issues, the attempts to jump-start the housing market and protestors outside his office concerned about water in the desert region. He had posed as an academic, a researcher, to get close to Morgan Sierra, but academia was far from his real life.
Michael had become a diary of sorts, a soul into which he poured his own heart so that when he left, he felt lighter, emptier. It didn’t matter that the words seemed to wash over his brother, who never spoke or even moved. Joseph was devoted to his brother; anyone at the facility would say he was the most caring and regular visitor to the ward. Michael did not want for anything, but then he didn’t require much. He was fed the best food and had access to top of the line medications and psychiatrists, but it seemed that nothing could be done to make him better. Today Joseph leaned in close so the nurses couldn’t overhear him and spoke quietly.
“I’m going to take you on a trip soon Michael. I’ve found a way to help you, I just need a little more time. But don’t worry, it won’t be long now.”
He gently stroked his brother’s thin hair and looked out into the garden where each twin saw worlds that no one else was aware of.
Joseph never stayed long at the hospital and was soon on the road again in his SUV, heading back to his home office. Working from his house in The Foothills outside Tucson allowed him the privacy he needed for his businesses and other projects. He had people who managed his offices in town and he had cleared his schedule for the next few weeks in order to focus on Pentecost. He felt some anxiety as there were too many variables right now and the situation was not entirely under his control. He was worried about the Thanatos group who were also pursuing the stones. Their evident determination, superior resources and firepower meant he had to bring ARKANE and the academic Morgan Sierra into the mix. He had been loath to do it but the frankly unexpected miracles of Varanasi meant he could no longer keep the quest secret from those who watched such events. He didn’t know much about Thanatos except that they would go after the stones whatever the cost. He expected them to follow Morgan’s trail first, but they would be after him eventually. He grinned then, his perfect orthodontic teeth flashing in the sun. He would release the power of the stones at Pentecost when the comet was closest to earth and he didn’t care if they took them after that, as long as Michael was healed first.
As he drove, Joseph thought about what had brought him to this moment, how the past had shaped this quest and transformed his brother into a living ghost. The twins had been late additions to a miserable
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