Unity Carl Stubblefield (read book TXT) 📖

Powerlessness. In such a short time frame, he had gone from successfully managing his entire life to everything spiraling out of control.

Hell. Who was he fooling? Things hadn’t been in control since Gwen went away. His relationship with his sons, getting lost in work, and for what? They threw him out like trash, as well as manipulated his son against him. Things were still indeterminate with Gus. He thought they were getting better, but did he expect things to improve overnight?

He was torn. He needed to be there for Gwen, but Gus also needed his time. Damn that Mengele! Tempest wanted to make him pay, but that meant keeping Gus at the manor, away from his mother. And from him as well. Gus really had surprised him, and he wished he could take more credit for the man he was growing into. Why had he trusted Mengele? The thoughts and blame invaded Tempest’s thoughts like an impatient child. Well, obviously I didn’t know who he was. How could he?

He began to doubt everything Mengele had told him when he knew him as ‘Dr. Weft.’ As he reflected on that dark time, he could see the inconsistencies that he had failed to notice due to the pressure and urgency of the situation. There was no time to evaluate and plan before acting, something that was unlike anything in his typical life.

Were all those warnings about endorphins and keeping Gus from getting too many surges of positive emotions a load of garbage? His gut told him yes. He could see Mengele laughing to himself at all the suffering he had indirectly caused his family. Why? What possible benefit for making him suffer? It made no sense.

“How far are we? I’m slipping!” BoJack yelled from the back. Tempest put the transport on autopilot and entered the back of the ambulance-sized ship. BoJack’s back was drenched with a deep V of sweat, his hair a ragged mop on his head, dripping to the transport floor. Tempest looked at his stats and saw he was dangerously close to bottoming out his MP.

Fumbling with his cloak, he opened a small compartment and reached inside. Three blue gels were inside, covered in a dusting of lint. He hated coconut, but maybe that was a good thing. He fed one to BoJack, his eyes calming somewhat at seeing the gel. Both his gnarled, twisted hands relaxed as the MP took a jump to around 30% full. They spread out, flexing as he held one onto Gwen’s forehead and over her heart.

“Hoo. Thanks, man, we would have both been in bad shape with rebound effects if I don’t keep this up.”

Tempest tried his best to dust off another, but BoJack just shook his head, opening wide. BoJack chomped the remaining gels, swallowing the rubbery jacket without even chewing. He closed his eyes and inhaled with relief.

“Thanks, cuz, appreciate it.” He took a few deep breaths to center himself, then opened his eyes and gave Tempest an appreciative look. “I think I’ve got it now.”

Tempest nodded and walked back to the driver’s seat and engaged manual piloting again. Seeing an opening, he passed a vehicle and narrowly made it through the next skyway before the flows changed. At last, things were starting to move.

Grimdark was pushed into a chair sitting in the middle of the room. A single light shined down, obscuring his ability to see outside the cone of light; it reminded him of being on stage. He could tell there were people seated in the shadows watching the process, murmuring quietly to themselves. One of the orderlies kept a heavy hand on his shoulder, a tacit reminder to stay put.

Did these fools have no idea of what he could do to them if he wanted?

“We have assembled here to oversee Grimdark’s orientation. He has seen the benefits of the geas and has agreed to confirm his fealty to Purple Faction,” an overly-theatrical voice intoned over the speaker.

Grimdark looked around but could only see the orderlies in his small circle of light.

“As his brother before him, he will submit willingly to the geas to add to our strength. Focusing our wills and intentions to become that much more powerful.”

“The strong, the pure…” those hidden in the shadows chanted in response.

A large man with wine colored robes, a dark cowl hiding his face, stepped into the light and began to speak. He recited some words that sounded like some kind of liturgy and a prompt came up on Grimdark’s display.

Do you accept? (Yes/No)

He almost chose ‘No’ but he saw his older brother, just at the edge of the light. Only his nose was lit by the cone, but it illuminated his features well enough. Pleading eyes begged Grimdark to do something. He had never seen his brother, the only man he looked up to, seem so… defeated. He had a couple days’ facial hair and he looked more gaunt. His hollow eyes widened as they contemplated what Grimdark would do.

Comply or resist? What did his brother want?

He then saw the orderlies that were holding his brother up by the upper arms on both sides, his legs dangling, and he wasn’t supporting himself at all.

“Choose,” the large man croaked, the command amplified on speakers all around.

Grimdark made his choice.

Chapter Sixty

Guys Like Me

“This is foolishness! If you know yourself but not the enemy, for every victory gained you will also suffer a defeat,” Nick pleaded as Gus opened the door at the bottom of the lift, surprised to find it unlocked.

“I have to.”

“Why, Gus, why?” Nick asked relentlessly.

Gus clenched his teeth in response. His mind was set. “Because, Nick. I have to do this—”

“As penance for making a mistake?”

“Make mistakes of ambition and not mistakes of sloth. Develop the strength to do bold things, not the strength to suffer.”

Nick growled in frustration. “Think of what you’re throwing away.”

“See? Not so fun when someone else throws quotes in your face, is it? Besides, what am I throwing away? Besides