The Messiah Choice (1985) by Jack L. Chalker Read Free Book Online Page A

that whatever it was was still present. Just as she had sensed its presence, so had she felt its leaving. Still, she had to take a look, if only to reassure herself. The corner was empty save for an old coat rack that contained only an umbrella and a well-worn sweater. There was room for a man and more here, but there was no exit of any kind, no place that such a man could go without coming first into the light.
    She turned around once more and went back to the desk area, but she was too shaken to continue. She knew it would be foolish to tell someone. Nerves, they'd say. The coat rack was mistaken for a phantom. No way to prove otherwise, although she knew that someone had been there.
    She decided that she didn't want to be in the room any more, but she certainly wasn't sleepy.
    She needed to get outside in the sun, and to talk to somebody—anybody. Well, she thought to herself, if I am to be queen of this place, then perhaps I should learn to act the part.
    She commanded the chair forward, guiding it through the doorway to the hall, and then went down it a ways until she saw a security man standing there at his post. He watched her come, and approached when he sensed she wanted something. "Ma'am?"
    "Pardon, if you please—will you remove the contents from this tray and replace it in the room back there?"
    He reached over and, with her help, removed the tray/copy holder, took off the papers, and placed the tray in a compartment on the back of the chair. "I'll see to it, Ma'am," he assured her.
    "Anything else I can do to help?"
    " Oui —yes," she responded, catching herself. She was nervous, and whenever she was nervous she thought only in French. "Will you please use your radio or whatever and see if Monsieur MacDonald is available to talk to me?"
    "I think I know where he is right now. Where do you want me to send him?"
    "I will wait by the entrance there, where I can look out into the sunlight."
    4
    THE OCEAN OF MEMORY
    Gregory MacDonald was surprised at the summons and even more surprised to find her waiting alone. He had assumed that the nurse, at least, would always be present.
    " Mademoiselle, Greg MacDonald at your service," he said lightly, not really knowing how to react to her.
    She smiled. "Please—not Mademoiselle. I'm already a little tired of all the formalities which I'm not used to having, and I am not even certain of my family name any more. Everyone has always called me Angie and I would be pleased if you would do so."
    His eyebrows shot up. "Very well—Angie. Most people just call me 'MacDonald' or, sometimes, 'Mac,' but I always insist that lovely ladies who inherit the company I work for call me Greg. Fair enough?"
    She laughed a little at that. "May we go outside? I need to feel a little of the sun and breathe the air here. I have never been to a tropical place before."
    "You're the boss, but I warn you to go slow. If you're not acclimated to this sort of place you could find it physically very hard on you."
    She commanded the chair forward and to the doors, which were electrically opened for her. He followed, wondering just what all this was about. It was humid, and the temperature was in the eighties, as usual. That was one reason he had always liked Celsius, where it was only thirty. It was just as hot, but somehow it sounded cooler.
    The broad porch had tables and deck chairs, but she wasn't particularly interested in lingering.
    "If we could—I would like you to show me where my father died."
    "I'm not too sure about that. It's a ways and some of the terrain's pretty rough. If anything happened it'd be my neck in a noose."
    "If I am, as you say, the boss, even though it will take years to get it all settled through the courts, then you are my employee. You are without power to stop me from going, so are you going to come along to safeguard me or not?"
    He sighed. "Well, if you put it that way, I guess so. But let me get a walkie-talkie from one of the security boys first so if we run into