Katie Black

Seph was on his way to the Cattle’s Hog, a rather dirty hole in the wall pub with food that wasn’t much better than its decor, but it was dark, cheap, and the owner, Arz, had little interest in the actions and identities of his customers. So long as the customers tipped well. In the back room, illegal games of poker were usually underway. A place like this was not pleasant, but it was the best and safest place for Seph’s line of business. When he opened the door, Arz nodded. Falling into their familiar rhythm, Seph tossed him a metallic coin that Arz caught without a glance. Seph pulled his hood over his head and made his way through the crowd. He didn’t know the name of his client, just a pseudonym— Madam Debris and their picture. That was enough. He spotted a flash of gold from the corner of his eye. The same gold hue from the picture. He made his way towards her.

“Chronos called.” He mumbled to the air, rather than address the woman directly.

“No. I did.” A voice answered.

“And you are?”

“Madam Debris.” She half-breathed.

“Ah… very well.” He said, “Do you have the payment?”

She nodded and then handed him a pouch. It clanged as it filled his grasp. He opened it and eyeballed the amount—this wasn’t the sort of place one counted his coins.

“Then, here you are.” He placed a small bottle that contained little more than a sip of liquid in her gloved hand. A month’s supply of immortality. With their business complete, he turned and made his way through the crowd, he gave a quick nod to Arz before stepping out of the smoke-filled room and into the night. As he walked towards the west side of the city, he tucked the photo of the client into his coat pocket. Keeping them had become a habit. After his

first sale, he’d gone to toss it and thought twice of it. The names were fake. The identities were always covered in cloaks. But the photos of his clients were real. It didn’t feel right to toss it.

Above him, he heard the annoying clank of hovering cars. He had always hated the invention. Whoever thought it was a good idea to give clueless humans the ability to fly machinery had clearly never thought the idea out rationally. But then again, they most certainly had been human, so what else could you expect?

The building Chronos ran their business out of was rather large and expensive but had been built in another generation. Unlike the sharp, irregular angles of buildings these days, this building held the symmetrical nature of another time. Seph opened the door to the old building. He was meant to meet Chronos and hand over the money he owed him in exchange for the wage he was owed. The darkness of the night echoed in the halls of the old building. Seph was not sure he had ever seen the face of Chronos. They were always standing in the comfort of shadows. Seph used the city light that gleamed through the windows as a source of direction as he made his way to his boss’s office. As he turned the corner, he saw that his boss wore the black hooded cloak he always wore in the presence of Seph.

“Sephtis Ridge. Is that you?” The voice echoed.

“Yes, Boss.” He replied.

“And the sale was successful?”

“As always,” He responded.

“Good.” He nodded to the pouch on his desk sitting next to a small box. “Then leave me my coins and take your own, along with your next assignment.”

Seph did as he was told without a hint of the snark he usually wore. He saved that for beyond these walls. Here, he wore a different face—obedience. He was never a fan of this identity, the

submissive dealer who did as he was told and asked only the questions he was permitted—none. But Seph was also asked very few of them himself, and he had never made a paycheck that matched this one, so he’d stayed. Seph liked to see himself as a person with few needs and zero dependencies, but this world was built to make all humans bow to one entity: money. Even death could be scoffed at these days, scoffed at for a price. Everything had its price.

Sephtis placed the bag of coins on the table and grabbed his own. When he went to grab his next assignment as well, a hand stopped him. A gloved hand.

“You have never stolen from me.” It was not a question, but Seph felt the need to defend himself.

“No. Never.”

“You have access to my money and my drug. You have never stolen either.”

“No.”

“Why not?” The voice boomed.

“Because I’m not a thief.” He could not see Chronos’ face, but he could sense their intrigue.

“I know. Why not?”

“Because…” what a question to ask, and how did he begin to answer it, “It’s too much work. I just want to make my money and go on with my life.”

“Until you die.” Chronos responded.

There was once a time that they all would die, but due to the person in front of him, that was no longer the case.

“Yeah, until I die.” He shrugged the phrase off. Perhaps, there was a time when immortality would have had a nice ring to it, but that time had died. Now, dying didn’t scare him

half as much as an eternity of living. Chronos lifted his gloved hand and Seph took the box and the accompanying envelope. He opened the envelope.

 10:30. Cattle’s Hog. Alea Lansing.

The name struck him as strange. It struck him as real. He turned the writing over to see the face of the client. She was a young woman, most of the clients were young, attempting to hold onto a youth that time had tried to fade, but her face seemed different. She was young, but time had begun to make its mark in a way that felt different than the unnatural shine of users. Perhaps, this was her first time. Soon enough, those natural blemishes would fade, and a lifeless eternal shine would take its place. Tomorrow, he would deliver her this liquid life, but for now he was off duty. He made his way down the sidewalks attempting to keep his view to the sky and not the towering buildings around him. He always wished he could live somewhere where the night sky wasn’t blocked by manmade eye sores and buzzing cars polluting the air. But moving cost money, so he made his way to the east side of town where a single bed in a crowded room awaited him.

The next day happened as they all did—he woke up, looked for a way to dodge his landlord, a way to waste his day without spending the little money he had, and ended up in the library. He had never been a very dedicated reader, but when he couldn’t find something else to do, he appreciated the quiet, the reassuring energy that allowed him to just relax. To just be. He usually ended up grabbing a random book from the shelves and finding a place to nap. It was something to do—even if it was just sleeping. Day faded into night signaling it was time for Seph to wake. He had a delivery to make. He dusted himself off, placed his unopened book back on the shelf, and headed out onto the streets towards the Cattle’s Hog. The farther into the east side of town the more people he saw walking alongside him on the streets and the less covered

by hovering vehicles the sky became. As the bodies made their way home, he made his way to his place of work. That old, dirty pub. He made his way through the crowd, looking for the face that matched the photo. As he peered over the heads, he noticed a woman who seemed out of place. She was alone, but that was not what struck him as strange. It was her posture, straight and steady, and her lack of hooded coat. It was as if she did not fear eyes seeing her true identity—he did not know if that confidence came from the knowledge that she had nothing to hide or that she would not be recognized here. When she turned towards his direction, he recognized her face. It was the client. He navigated his way through the crowd and towards this woman. When he was in front of her, he mumbled,” Chronos called.” She was meant to answer the signal with the phrase “No, I did.” but the phrase did not come.

He tried again, a little louder this time, “Chronos called.” The response did not come. He was growing tired of this charade. He turned to face her directly, “Are you here to purchase liquid life?” His voice held more than a hint of frustration.

“What?” She gasped.

“I deliver liquid life to clients of Chronos, and he gave me your photo.” He handed her the photo.

“Who are you?” She said, clearly shaken by the interaction.

“I just told you.” He was quickly getting tired of this woman’s company. “Here, just take the delivery and I’ll take what you owe Chronos.” He handed her the box. She opened it slowly as if doubtful of it, doubtful of him, he presumed. But when the lid was fully open, she gasped again.

“How…how did you get this?”

“As I have already explained, I work for Chronos. He gives the liquid life to me, and I give it to you. I’m the middleman if you will.” He hated first time clients. Chronos usually briefed them more than this, but still, they had too many questions.

“Now, the money?”

She looked confused. “Where is Lux?”

“Lux?”

“I don’t… this is not how I do business.” She got up to leave. But Seph did not miss the fact that she still held the box with the container of immortality.

“Wait. Where do you think you’re going with that?”

“I need…” She was attempting to craft a believable lie in her mind as she stalled, and Seph knew it.

“You need to hand over your immortality if you’re not going to buy it.”

“I never buy it.” She mumbled. “Lux always meets me here and… I don’t know how he gets it, but it’s always more than this and…” It was as if she had caught herself. “Never mind.” She held out the box, allowing him to take it back. Her fingers gripped it a little too tightly as he took it back and her eyes held tears she wouldn’t allow to fall.

“Chronos, never gives anything for free. Maybe your friend Lux usually bought it for you. Did you reach out to Chronos on your own this time?” She shook her head.

“But like I said, never mind it.” Her gaze was on the box, “But… how much would it cost?”

“This? 100 metallic coins.”

“100 metallic coins. How many people would it help?”

His eyes squinted in confusion as he slowly said, “One. For a month.”

She cursed something under her breath. Before shoving a bag of coins in his hand,

“This should be enough for two bottles. Can I have another?”

“I don’t have another on me.” That desperation in her eyes made him continue, “But… I could take you to Chronos.”

“Okay.” She spoke. Her eyes were steady. From his experience, most people who enjoyed his product, feared the man. In Seph’s eyes he had always simply been a scientist that had created the impossible and now reaped the rewards, but this town had an ear for superstition, and some believed to create eternal life, you must’ve paid the gods for it through eternal death. They believed he was a dead man walking to put it lightly, but Seph knew dead men didn’t walk.

He led the way back through the crowds, attempting not to draw too much attention to himself and the woman trailing his heels. Most of these people knew what he sold by now; most of them were previous clients. He felt it was best if these onlookers did not begin to suspect a field trip to the factory of liquid life. The woman stayed strictly behind him. It intrigued him to see her desperation for this drug, when her features had appeared untouched by the immortal shine. Why was she so desperate to start? Why did she need more than one vial? He was not sure, and the questions drifted from his mind as they stepped out of the Cattle’s Hog into the bitter night.

“How far are we going?” The woman asked. Seph thought he heard annoyance in her tone.

“To the border of the east and west parts of the city.” Nothing about this delivery was going as planned, and he didn’t appreciate the annoyance for his extra effort. He deserved a 5-star customer rating, even if this was an illegal business and the customer was wearing on his last nerve.

“What are they like?” she said as they walked in step with one another.

“I don’t know.”

“But you work for them?”

“Yeah, and we barely exchange any words. They’re always cloaked. Their office is always dark. I couldn’t even identify them in a lineup. They’re a person that doesn’t want to be known. So, I never tried.” As he said the words, he thought they sounded stranger than they had ever felt. In truth, Chronos was the person he saw most. His only real steady source of communication, and he didn’t even know their real name. Odd. He shrugged it off and kept going.

“Who’s this Lux character who always buys your immortality for you?”

“Exactly that. He gives me medicine.”

“That’s one way to describe a potion that makes you live forever.” He scoffed.

“I don’t use it to live forever. I use it to make life last longer.” He looked at her then—really, looked at her. She had curly black hair and dark brown eyes. She was tired. He could see it in the way her body seemed to force itself forward with a momentum he sensed would fail her if she took a moment to think. She was exhausted, but she looked healthy.

“Isn’t eternity some people’s definition of a little longer?”

“Not mine.” She said curtly. “Is it yours?”

“I think one lifetime is enough. More than enough.”

“You don’t use the product?” If the surprise in her tone hadn’t been clear, the arch in her eyebrows would have communicated it for sure.

“Nope. I couldn’t afford it if I wanted to.” He smirked as he said it.

She eyed him skeptically, before nodding.

“But would you if you could?”

“I don’t know. Not that it matters, I’ve never been in that position before.” With the last words, his smirked faded and a silence fell over them as they walked. He knew that hadn’t been the whole truth. He did know, but like he said, it hadn’t mattered. He hadn’t been able to afford it.

“I don’t usually see the sky this clear.” Alea whispered.

“It’s my favorite time of day. When the cars finally park themselves on the ground and we see there’s more than exhaust hanging over our heads.”

They walked the rest of the way like that—their minds juggling their thoughts and their eyes on the sky.

↠↠↠

 

“This is it?” She said, staring at the building with a skeptical eye.

“Yeah,” he said, then opened the door for her. She hesitated and he got the sense that she was avidly aware that she had just followed a stranger to what now appeared to be an abandoned building. “They don’t like to waste money on electricity.” He attempted to explain away the darkness. He wasn’t sure she would come, but her eyes looked to the box, and she entered the building. Seph led them to the office, a little nervous of how his boss would take to him revealing the location of their office, but it was a tad too late for worry. He knew when he turned that corner his boss would surely be waiting impatiently behind the desk as they always were. Ready for a simple transaction. It would just be a tad less simple this time. He led her into the office and then stopped suddenly.

“What?” Alea whispered from behind him.

“They’re not here?” He said, peering into the dark room, a puzzled brow arched on his forehead. She walked around him to see for herself, but sure enough it was empty.

“What do we do now?”

Seph shrugged. “They’re usually here.” He looked around once more as if they had possibly missed their shadowy figure. “I’ll come back tomorrow.”

“That’s it?”

“What else is there to do? If you want, you can meet me back here tomorrow or if you’d prefer, we can meet at the Cattle’s Hog.” He suggested.

“No, I can’t tomorrow. I have to work.” She thought for a moment. “There’s no other way for you to get a hold of them?”

Seph sighed. Chronos had always been here. They had always met here. He’d never needed a way to reach them beyond these walls. And it surely wasn’t his business why they were not here tonight. “No.” He answered

He could see the worry as she picked at her nails trying to decide what to do now. “Just call me at work if you get the vial for me.” She pulled a card out of her pocket and extended it to him. He took it.

        Dr. Alea Lansing. Little Light Children’s Hospital. 507-432-9832

So, her name had been real.

↠↠↠

        Another morning came and Seph got up to make his way to Chronos’. Outside his door lay a package. He went to place it by his neighbor’s door, knowing it wasn’t for him. He hadn’t received a package in years, but then he glanced at the label.

Sephtis Ridge.

His memories retraced themselves to another box. Another time. A colorful design wrapped around the box of his memories, but the same name was printed on top. He could picture the small hands extending it towards him.

  What’s this?

        A present silly, the voice the hands belonged to answered

        And where’d you find one of those?

        Who said I found it? The voice smiled. I made it.

        And why would you do that?

        It’s your birthday. His eyes rolled at that.

        Orphans don’t have birthdays.

        Everyone has a birthday, Sephie.

He dropped the box and kept moving. Shaking his head as if to shake the sound of her voice, he made his way to Chronos’ headquarters. The building was still empty when he arrived. So, he waited until nightfall, but they never came.

He walked back towards the Cattle’s Hog. He had no business there tonight, but his life had one routine and he didn’t know how to fill his time without it. After tossing Arz the metallic coin, he took a seat at bar. For the first time in the years, they’d known this rhythm, Arz looked puzzled. But he pushed it aside and asked with a gruff,

“You want something to drink?”

“Water.” Seph answered, which earned him an exasperated sigh.

He sipped his water and watched the faces around him go about their night. Shouting filled the air, some of it in good humor and some of it the foundation of a brawl, but none of it mattered to him. Well, until he heard that name

“Chronos didn’t answer.” A voice hissed. “I have a day before my month is up.”

“How long have you been taking liquid life?” A harsher voice croaked.

“30 years.”

“Say goodbye to your youth. In a day, you’ll gain those years back.” The harsh voice laughed. “Unless you can find them in time, which is.”

Seph should’ve known better than to stare, but he had been too eager to hear. Their eyes met his and he saw the recognition.

“Maybe I won’t need to after all.”

Seph was up and rushing towards the door in an instant, but he could hear the heavy footsteps trailing behind him. He had to lose them. Luckily, he knew these alleys as a native and the silked clothes they had been wearing implied they could not claim the same. He ducked down streets, taking each turn he could, forging a maze for them to follow. The footsteps grew fainter, but he took no chances. He rushed until he reached his door or rather slammed into the door, his footing tumbling beneath him and ending in a crash. He looked down. That cursed box. He opened his door and tossed it to his side. With a small clank, he looked and noticed the box was opened. A small vial had fallen out. Curiosity overtook his distrust, and he peered inside the box further.

You may not be a thief, but this vial steals from death—forever. Use it wisely…

        I am gone, but you are not. What was mine is now yours.

        At Last. Goodbye.

They were gone. And he had the last remaining vial of immortality. Liquid life forever. Not for a month. A flutter went through his stomach. He thought he might puke. Ten years too late. That’s all his mind could think. Ten years too late. He looked to the sink. He had no purpose for eternal life, he had lost that purpose ten years ago and now each day was a new torture he had to fill. He didn’t want an endless supply of empty days. He wanted one more day with her. He placed the vial on the floor and went to bed. Tomorrow, he’d deal with it.

↠↠↠

        Tomorrow came. He made his way to Chronos’ headquarters. He had called Alea that morning and told her he had located a vial for her. The Cattle’s Hog was no longer safe, and he hated hospitals, so he had decided they would meet here. She arrived in her scrubs. She looked just as exhausted as before, but she smiled when she saw him.

“I’m so glad you found them finally.”

“I didn’t.” He spoke. The truth had never been something he felt he owed the clients, but she was different. “They sent that to me.”

“How did they know…”

He didn’t know what to say or how to explain it, so he handed her the note that had come with the package. She read it once. Then, she read it again.

“Where’d you get this?” Her voice was panicked.

“It’s from Chronos. They’re gone, so I won’t be able to get you any more liquid life.” He couldn’t meet her eyes as he said it. He knew what it was like to have a life you’d do anything to save.

“It’s… I know this handwriting.” She whispered, “It belongs to Lux.” Her fingers traced the script, circling the last line, At Last. Goodbye. He may not have known much about Chronos, but he had seen their script every day for years.

“No, that’s Chronos’ handwriting.”

“How did he know?” She asked, but Seph did not follow.

“Know what?”

“How did Lux know you would show me this?” She pointed to the last letters. “A. L. Alea Lansing. Goodbye.” He thought back to the first time he’d heard that name—her name. Alea Lansing. The first time he’d read a name in that script that hadn’t been clearly forged from imagination to hide the truth. The first time Chronos had ever given him the truth. His mind thought back to the night he’d delivered her the vial, Lux always meets me here and… Did you reach out to Chronos on your own this time? She’d shaken her head—no. So, how had her name ended up on his assignment… how had Chronos known there was a woman in Cattle’s Hog in desperate need of a vial of life-giving medicine she never paid for if she hadn’t called?

“Who was Lux to you?” Seph asked in an attempt to make sense of this mess.

“A friend. He came to the hospital one day and I treated him. He told me he had once been a doctor too, until he attempted to find a cure to death itself. He had, but it seemed it came at a cost. He never told me what that was. Eventually, he offered me access to the medicine on one condition. I use it to give my patients more life, but never eternal life.”

He had a feeling he knew what that cost was—the life of a dead man walking.

“But how…” She repeated the question… “How did Lux know?”

“Because he’s Chronos.” The only possible answer. “He sent me to deliver that first vial to you. He knew you had needed more vials. He must have known… we would meet, that I would give you the last vial.”

“But if he wanted me to have his last vial, why not just send it to me?” She asked. It was a question that had no answer. The only person that could have responded was gone.

“What will you do with this vial—he said it lasts forever.”

“Use it sparingly. A little bit at a time, and never all to the same person.”

Seph smiled, but his eyes became cloudy with tears.

“You don’t like that plan?”

He shook his head. “It’s not that.”

“Then what is it?” She asked.

“My sister could’ve used a doctor like you.”

It wasn’t the kind of confession one knew how to respond to, so she just nodded. But he felt she understood and that was the only response he needed. She departed shortly after that, in a hurry to save lives, and he found himself alone. It was not a new predicament for him, but with no job to do and no places to be, it felt permanent.

For some reason, he went to Chronos’ desk and sat. He would never truly know this man who had cheated death only to end up choosing it. He would never know why he had made a fortune off of his creation, never charging a price a common person could pay, but gave it to Alea for free. Perhaps, he needed her to do the honest work he never trusted his greed to do. It was a shot in the dark. He knew he’d never truly know. He picked up the note again.

You may not be a thief, but this vial steals from death—forever. Use it wisely…

        I am gone, but you are not. What was mine is now yours.

He did not know why Chronos—Lux, he corrected himself—had chosen to give his last vial to him. A simple delivery boy whose life had long ago become pointless. He read the note again. What was mine is now yours. Did that include this building? Did it include his money? Seph had no real purpose for any of it, but it could buy him a ticket. A ticket to somewhere with fewer crowded buildings and more open space. The kind of place he and his sister always dreamed about. He opened the top drawer of the desk. His eyes widened as he saw bag after bag of metallic coins and another envelope. The same script.

        Sephtis Ridge

He opened it.

        What was mine is now yours— the secret to liquid life and the burden of it.

Underneath the words, he had scribbled a formula.

↠↠↠

Night faded into day, and day into night. Again, and again until months past. Alea Lansing had nursed the last vial to its very last drop, but now it was empty. She sat down at her desk exhausted as usual. But the exhaustion was harsher these days, endless. She remembered the dangers of liquid life. She remembered how Lux used to warn her that addiction ran deep in human blood—so much that even life became addiction when one let it. She realized that maybe in her own way she had become dependent on it too addicted to the hope it brought. She sorted through the piles of insurance paperwork and pharmaceutical advertisements, trying to organize her desk—until she saw a package.

        Dr. Alea Lansing

She opened the letter and gasped.

Lux left me more than one parting gift it seems. In fact, so many gifts that I’ve decided to start up my own business. I’d happily be your new supplier of liquid life. My location has changed as has the business name. But I am available by phone and will send you as much product as I can manage. But I have my own condition to add to our contract.

Liquid Life will always be free to those who wish to make life last a little longer.

Seph