16 Interlude 2 – Hess – Iteration 143 (2/2)

”At least I had the decency to give you something drinkable in twenty-six. Do you remember when you had a winery? That hellish liquid was not fit for human consumption. When it didn't sell, I had to help drink the entire inventory.”

Elza blinked in surprise. ”A winery?”

”In a minute you'll remember why you don't recall it more often.”

They drank more of the mead, which had subtle apple notes buried beneath its harshness. Playing remember when over a glass of whatever poured was a tradition longer than the entire recorded history of the current world. They remembered every moment of their endless lives with perfect clarity, though only a minute fraction of it fit into primary memory at any moment. The time required to pull forth the seldom-accessed memories grew longer as they continued to accumulate more experiences.

Some Iterations lasted much longer than others, but a good approximation was a thousand years each, which meant he had close to a hundred and forty-three thousand years of life stored inside his eternal skull. Sometimes he felt ancient. But never a hundred and forty-three thousand years ancient.

”You didn't drink more than a few bottles of my wine,” Elza said. ”We sold the bulk of it to be distilled into grape liquor.”

”Really? Well, you can't deny it was bad.”

Elza laughed. ”It was terrible. You tried so hard not to make a face when I let you do the first tasting after it aged. I knew it wouldn't win any awards when it was still in oak, but I didn't want to give up.”

”I really mean it,” Hess said. ”This body of yours is my favorite.”

”You must be trying to annoy me.”

”I'm serious.”

”Which is your second favorite?”

”The first,” he said.

”Lazy eye and all?”

”You know, I never knew I was lonely till the day I wasn't.”

”Different question. Which body was the best for a cozy?”

Hess swirled his mead. ”You've asked this before. Iteration six, no question about it.”

”I never understood your obsession with curves,” she said.

”To be quite honest, Elza, neither do I. It just is.”

They sat in silence. Hess slouched into his chair. ”I'm tired,” he said.

Elza put a hand to her forehead and spoke with slurred words. ”I think we've been poisoned again. Annoying. Hope wears off fast.”

Crap. Hope it kills us – effects will be shorter that way. If it's just inconvenient, it could take hours for our bodies to purge the poison. Hess tried to stand, but his legs couldn't support him. He eyed the bell on the table by Elza's elbow. ”Call servants,” he said.

Elza rang the bell and they waited.

When the door opened, a servant and two guards entered. ”Help us to bed,” Elza said. The servant ignored her and turned to face Hess. ”Was your mead poisoned?”

An inside job. Great. This will start all sorts of zombie rumors.

The servant's eyes followed every twitch of his face in a familiar manner. ”Observer,” he said. The servant, a plain young woman, nodded. ”It's Ingrid, Hess. And your sick game of Empires ends now. We've debated among ourselves and decided that your disobedience has to be punished.”

His tongue became too numb for speech. Hess sought Elza with his eyes as the other Observers placed him on the bed and wrapped him in linens. A frustrated anger boiled within him. I will make them regret this.