“Did you want to talk about something specific?” Pat was starting to get a headache and wanted Dr. Evers to leave as soon as possible.
“What was your intent with the microchip technology? What did you think should be done with them?”
Pat took another long sip from his drink while Clive flagged over a waitress to place a drink order.
“I don’t understand.” Pat didn’t want to deal with this at the moment. He wanted to go home and sleep in his bed.
“Do you have a mission statement?”
“I don’t know.”
“Do you strive to help others because it helped you?”
“I guess…?”
“Are you aware patient privacy is at stake?” Clive’s smile faltered slightly as he asked this and Pat looked confused.
“I was not aware, but if that is the case we will increase our microchip security features.” Pat moved to leave and Clive’s eyes flashed a momentary expression of panic. “Thank you for this enthralling chat and I appreciate you taking the time to meet with me, but if you have any complaints about the product, please contact the quality control office at Sherwood Servers.”
“Of course. I’m sorry to have bothered you, but it was good to meet you.” Clive said helplessly. Despite looking very lost, he was still extremely polite.
Pat knew he was being rude, but he had no time to deal with complaints about the product when there were more important things going on. He didn’t want to go back to the office. That was the good thing about being the CEO. He could go home after lunch and not get in trouble.
***
Even though he knew what would happen when he went to the conservatory, he still wanted to check. As he reached the portal, he could tell that it was inactive. No manor within and no beast roaming the halls. Pat then went through the triangle frame of the entrance but he appeared on the other side in the same glass-encased greenery bubble.
He ran his fingers over the metal frame. Parts of the portal had vines wrapping around and poisonous-looking berries hanging from it tantalizing him. Pat couldn’t be sure if the sounds in the conservatory were things he was really hearing or auditory hallucinations. It sounded as though rain was hitting the glass panes above, but his skin was wet. Birds sang, but it was going to be winter soon. Children laughed and played at a park nearby that didn’t exist.
All was peaceful, which typically was not something that could be said for his imaginings. He usually thought about horrific things that made him curl into a ball and cry for them to go away. These nightmares haunted him during waking hours and he felt so lost being unable to do anything about it.
When the chip had been installed the first time, the procedure was done by a surgeon handpicked by his father. Pat wished his father was here to help. He knew things about the business like the product quality, mission statements, goals, and best business practices. That was something he never had time to explain to Pat in detail, and that was why Theresa took such a big part in the company. She had hung on Owen Sherwood’s every word and this made her an extreme asset to the company. It also made Pat worried that eventually the board would decide he was unnecessary and give her free rein over everything. That was a shuddering thought.
As a teenager, he had always wanted to do something creative. His inclinations to write poetry, play instruments, and build things were deeply ingrained. While computer programming involved stringing together lines of code that flowed together, playing with technical instruments, and building fantastical virtual worlds, the career field didn’t scratch that itch Pat had. He also seemed to bear the burdens of an artist by being mostly anxious and thoroughly depressed.
As he stood before his portal shivering, he realized he was currently depressed because of the loss of what he built with his imagination. At least, he thought he had built it. The place beyond the portal seemed to have popped into existence after the chip was implanted in his brain and he had the nagging feeling that all the things he saw within the portal were things he had seen before.
CHAPTER NINE
CLIVE TRULY BELIEVED that everything happened for a reason. Without this belief, he would have already fallen into despair at the fate of his life. It also didn’t hurt that he sincerely thought he was not at fault for any of his problems. The people who did not agree with his vision were simply challenges to his eventual victory. He was disappointed in how Patrick Sherwood had received him at the restaurant, but he had heard some credible rumors about how odd the boy was. Pat was not the sociable motivator that Owen Sherwood had been.
Clive chewed on these thoughts as he drove home. The radio played softly and his car easily rode up the incline onto the interstate. As he shifted into cruise, he fell deeper into his thoughts. He became so consumed that when he pulled into his driveway he startled slightly.
As he stepped out of the car, he instantly knew that something was wrong. He hurried inside the house calling out for Mayre as he went. All the lights were on and the ceiling fans whipped around silently. In the kitchen, a fresh pot of coffee sat undisturbed and a bag of chips was lying open on the table.
“Mayre?” He tried again. His heartbeat quickened when he received no response. He knew he should have taken the day off to resolve things with her. He shouldn’t have gone to work just to get fired and not have a wife to come home to.
He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and called Mayre’s parents. Her mother answered right away and dispelled the idea that Mayre was with them. Clive reassured his in-laws with his sturdy confidence that Mayre was okay and probably just had her phone on silent while at the grocery store.
“She wouldn’t move out without letting her parents know.” Clive said aloud. Mayre was very close with her family.
Taking a deep breath, he then dialed Mayre’s number. It rang several times and then ended. No voicemail box, no recorded greeting, no nothing. He dialed again and this time it went straight to voicemail. It then felt like his heart stopped beating and dropped out of his chest. He had to hold a hand up to his chest to ensure he was still breathing. Something was really wrong.
Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. Clive knew it had to be Mayre. She must have lost her key. That would explain everything.
As he swung the door wide open, it was Tonya. Before she could speak, Clive shook his head slowly. “This is the worst time you could be here.” He said, forgetting his charm in his disappointment and renewed fear.
“Please let me in, Clive.” Tonya said seriously. Her outfit was still very flashy, but her posture wasn’t intended to call attention to herself and her tone was normal. Clive could tell it must be serious.
Even so, his wife was the most important. “Mayre will be home any minute. You CAN’T be here.” He moved to shut the door and Tonya shoved her foot in the gap.
“No. She won’t.”
He pursed his lips and allowed Tonya to walk past him and into the living room. She sat where Mayre had sat the previous night when she had told him he was a bad husband.
“She’s gone, Clive, and you should leave too.”
“Gone? Where? Do you know where she’s at?”
“No.”
Clive threw his hands in the air. “That’s so helpful.”
“I know she is safe though. You aren’t.”
“What are you talking about?”
Tonya folded her hands together over her right knee and crossed her legs. “There are things coming. Firing you was only the beginning. You have to find a safe place to hide until this all blows over.”
