Book 28: The Eden Conference

July 2, 2022 - 2:59pm

Unknown, Pretoria, South Africa

Kees’s school days were cursed with the same remarkability as drying paint. Their mundane nature seeped into the fourteen-year-old’s being, flattening him into an imperceptible skidmark on the floor. He left the house unnoticed, slipped into his classrooms unnoticed, and wandered the halls unnoticed. This immense loneliness often swallowed him up, and was the grand conductor behind his sunken eyes, bony disposition, and fading blonde hair.

Today, however, he was distracted by the faintly glowing blue strings floating up from his body. It reacted to his movements, tightening and loosening as his subsistent muscles did. Perhaps, he thought, in his suffocating solitude, his mind had finally turned to delusions to keep him alive.

The boy toyed with the strings all day, experimenting with how it moved around his fingers. He leaned fully into what he accepted as hallucination, and convinced himself that the light responded not just to his movements, but his thoughts. He chuckled silently to himself, ignoring the resulting soreness from his unfamiliarity with smiling.

When the bell finally rang, Kees, as usual, was the first one out, always parked at a desk nearest to the door. He raced into the hallway, determined to be the first one skidding down the school’s creaky wooden stairs. He had no idea what possessed him to jump when he finally reached the last few steps, but when he did, the illusion was thawed instantly by the warm embrace of reality. He felt strings of energy tighten around his calves like springs before releasing the tension.

The chandelier suspended from the ceiling of the old Catholic school’s foyer was momentarily within arms reach as the boy soared through the air. He landed painlessly and effortlessly with a THUD. The students from other classes, now milling out of their classrooms, skittishly looked around for the source of the noise, overlooking Kees entirely.

He straightened up immediately, and made his way out the school’s front door, confident that nobody saw him.

“I’m not crazy! This blue light…it’s something special, and it’s real!” Kees suddenly noticed that among the crowd, one boy facing away from him wasn’t moving. He had to be at least a senior, with his height and musculature. His white hair was cut low, faded. What especially made him stand out were similar threads of blue energy dancing around his body. The boy turned, revealing a beautiful, youthful face. Victor smiled.

He’d been watching Kees for days, wondering how to get to him, how to make their meticulously planned meeting seem coincidental. He howled in joy when he watched the boy leave his house that morning as an atma user. His endeavors were truly blessed.

~

July 2, 2022 - 3:29pm

Unknown, Pretoria, South Africa

“But how did you M.I.I. guys find me so fast?” Kees asked. Over the past half hour, he’d learned quite a bit about the hidden world of maestros as they strolled along the neighborhood’s sidewalks.

“Well that’s my job.” Victor explained coyly, “I keep an eye on schools all over the country. It’s easy for me to sense atma users, so when I saw you today, I knew you had your God Dream.” The concept of a God Dream stuck out to him. From what the maestro explained, it was a dream that awakened one’s ability to use atma, and the eye that he saw, was allegedly God.

“So, does atma mean God is real?”

“Who knows? Only some maestros call that dream entity ‘God’. Others think it to be a representation of their souls. A couple of geriatrics think that it’s a glimpse into the realm of atma itself.”

“What do you call it?”

Victor smirked.

“People like me,” he ran his fingers through his hair, “with this white hair, are born atma users. I’ve had no such dream, and don’t concern myself with its semantics. Regardless of where it came from, or how it came to be, it’s here. What’s important is how you use it.”

“How do I use it? You explained the basics of atma, awakening a technique, something called a genten, and the truth about the Institute. But what’s next? Are you gonna ship me off to some wizarding school?” The boy asked sarcastically. Victor grimaced, remembering how many times he’d heard that question when we followed Vera on recruitment missions.

“That franchise has done irreparable damage to the recruitment process.” He thought.

“I’ll be training you. Before you can get into one of the M.I.I.'s colleges or academies, you need a recommendation. Traditionally, that comes from those phony senior field trips we organize for scouting. But for obvious reasons, we’re rethinking that bit.” He referred to the incident in Nigeria that killed dozens of seniors and an entire research team. For the time being, schools all over the world were reluctant to involve their students with anything to do with the Institute.

“You’ll train me? Really?!” Kees squeaked at the idea of leaving this life of his behind, and being lifted into some grand adventure. He could only imagine what kind of technique he had. Maybe he could be like the heroes in the comics he read, the anime he watched, the books he pored over. Maybe he could finally exist. Victor grinned and stopped. The two boys were outside a video game cafe whose interior had darkened to signal their closing for the day.

“Of course,” he purred, extending a hand, “I’ve always wanted a pupil.” The young boy motioned to take his mentor’s hand but stopped just shy of it. Without warning, a primal instinct came over him, like a deer seeing a lion for the first time and knowing, without a reasonable doubt, that it was a threat. Something invisible yanked him backwards.

“I-I should probably talk to my parents first. They’d worry if I disappeared.” They wouldn’t. His mouth went dry when he spoke. He gave Victor no time to respond as he turned away quickly to head home.

“Okay, well you have my number!” Victor called out. He frowned, and slinked into the video game cafe. Inside, Venus sat alone in the dark on a large bean bag, unimpressed with Victor’s return.

“Aww,” she mocked, “Poor Vicky. You almost had him, too.”

“Shut up!”

“Be nice…you’re the one that brought me along for this little assignment of yours. Why you can’t just nab him, I don’t know.” She yawned. Although the girl was in a state of perpetual exhaustion— which she blamed on her technique— she always had energy for sarcasm.

“Because, then the fun would be ruined. I don’t even need him. With you here, we could just kill his stupid father and puppeteer him into signing away the zoo.”

“Looks like your plan relies heavily on me. How uncharacteristic.” Venus rolled onto her stomach to reach for the mug of hot chocolate she perched on the table next to her.

“What can I say, Victor and Venus, we make a good team,” he shrugged.

“And, I want to learn about that technique of yours that can cheat death.”

“Ew, don’t say that. Do warm this up for me though.” She gestured with her mug.

~

July 2, 2022 - 5:23pm

Beenhouwer House, Pretoria, South Africa

Kees sat silently at his family dinner table. As usual, his parents were focused on his siblings’ days, hanging on every word of their conversation. Instead of his typical lamentation over this fact, he mulled over his brief time with Victor. Everything was going well, as an opportunity to live a new life presented itself. But something about him was off.

“That feeling came when I touched his atma…is that what happens between all atma users?”

“Kees, how was your day?” His father asked surprisingly, breaking his train of thought.

“It was good, I —”

“That’s good,” his father turned back to his wife, “you were saying, dear?”

“Oh.” He should have expected as much, it’s not like his father ever had much to say. It was always business with him, preening over his precious zoo and valuable animals. Mr. Beenhouwer was a man who liked order, and control. It filled him with pride to have that much over his wild beasts. Maybe if his youngest son was at least a delinquent, something to be tamed, he might’ve shown some interest in him.

Kees stood up soundlessly, not even drawing attention from the four other members of the dinner table, and left through the front door.

He strolled through his wealthy neighborhood, taking in the warm evening air, messing around with shifting his atma around his body. At the very least, he had this. Suddenly, he smelled something foul, like mint and death. He jumped away from the bushes lining the sidewalk just as a behemoth of a woman shot out of them. The boy could see the atma rolling off her hulking frame, mint green, but tinged with a sinister blue. There was dried blood around her neck, contrasted against her pale skin. Instinctively, he ran.

Even powered by atma, he could feel how close his attacker trailed behind him. He could smell it. The boy turned a left corner and sped up, not realizing for a moment that he ran past another human being with a familiar ozone scent.

Lightning crackled around Victor’s open palm as he slammed it into the pursuing woman. Her body convulsed when she hit concrete. The older boy rolled her over and brought his foot down on her knees, resulting in a sickening crack each time. He grinned wickedly at Kees.

“You alright?” Victor asked, now sitting on the woman’s chest. The boy watched in horror as the lightning melded into screaming blue flames, and began singeing the woman’s skull. Her screams would have been nightmare inducing had the maestro not covered her mouth with a burning hand.

“What are you doing!?” The young boy yelled. Victor stopped.

“You want the honors?” He procured a knife from his back pocket, and motioned for the boy to come closer. He hesitated. That feeling from earlier came back, and the smell of Victor’s atma made him want to vomit.

This was a mistake.

The woman’s own atma started fading, receding the mint and leaving the air with just the scent of death to twirl with the ozone and burning flesh. Kees stepped back, irritating Victor.

“This guy’s insane!”

“Come here.” His tone abolished the gumption for disobedience. As Kees reluctantly approached, each step felt like he was a man condemned, heading towards the guillotine. He collected the knife, and hovered over the dying woman. In spite of her burning skull, she still twitched, fighting to free herself. Her eyes were dead like she’d already given up hope as she bore into the boy.

“Kill her.” He froze, looking at Victor.

How did he end up here? He just wanted to be seen, to be a human. And now, his question about God earlier seemed silly. Atma did not verify His existence, but the Devil’s instead. His eyes even reflected Hell’s native scenery; dark, with the screams of a terrible and restless fire.

“If you don’t kill her before she dies, Beenhouwer, I will burn you. Slowly.” He lowered his voice. Shaking with fear, and on the verge of tears, Kees raised the knife.

Blood splattered all over his white sweatshirt, but instead of the woman’s cries ceasing, Victor was roaring in pain. He gingerly clutched his left eye and the large knife now embedded in it. Kees ran immediately, fearing what retaliation from this psychopath would look like. He turned a corner and disappeared out of sight, Victor’s howls following him all the way home.

“That little SHIT!” He pulled the knife from his eye and plunged it into the woman beneath him, finally putting her out of her misery. He stabbed her repeatedly until the entire sidewalk gleamed with blood, her face and torso barely recognizable as human remains. He shuddered cathartically as he relished in the sensation of steel piercing flesh.

“It’s a shame this part of the play is coming to a close so soon” With a sorrowful look, he rested his face in his bloody palm.

“Why even bother with new characters when I’m going to kill them off so soon?” Victor finally stood up, dragging and throwing the carcass into the bushes effortlessly.

“You made me waste a perfectly good doll, just for you to lose control and scare the boy. You can’t play the hero for even a second, huh?” Venus’s voice startled him. She was one of the only people that could sneak up on him. His lack of self awareness led him to believe that she was the creepiest person he’d ever met.

“I’ll make it up to you, and get you five little monkeys.”

“Oh, that’s right. I learned more about her technique, too. She has two main types of resurrection, one where she uses a dead body, and one where she creates a body out of wax. I haven’t seen how she does the wax one yet, since she hides every time she does it, but I know she can’t hold it for more than a day at a time. I need to find out more…I need to evolve my technique further.”

“If they’re not atma users, they’re useless to me.” The girl shook her head.

“They’re rich white folk. You’ll think of something.” He smiled at her.

“Can you not look at me directly? You’re all bloody and your eye is gross. How’d you get stabbed by a nobody when you claim you’re the fastest one in the group?” Venus teased.

“Okay, you’re pissing me off now. Why would I have my guard up for ‘a nobody’, as you put it?” Victor huffed, walking away from her.

“Where are you going? His house is the other way.” Venus pointed.

“Nah, not yet. It’s not enough to end it like that. I want him to wallow in fear. The little rabbit’s heart might just burst.”

~

July 5, 2022 - 4:35pm

Pretoria, South Africa

Three days had passed since Kees saw Victor. Three slow, terrible days. He’d barely slept, as he couldn’t stop peeking outside his window for reassurance. Every shadow made him skittish. The rustles in the leaves panicked him. He even started waiting for the family’s driver to come pick him up instead of calling a taxi. And still no sign of the boogeyman.

On the third day of this tension, he finally exhaled. He got home that day to find that his parents were fancifully dressed.

“You’re late,” his mother scolded, “hurry up and get ready, we’re having guests for dinner.” Guests. Nobody told him. His brother and sister sat smugly at the dinner table while their mother buzzed around with an assortment of dishes.

“What’s this about?”

“Don’t talk back, Kees. Just get ready. Your father had the bright idea of inviting the man who wants to buy the zoo over for dinner. I wish he’d sell the damn thing already. Just sucks up all of his time…” She started strong, but as usual, ended the sentence muttering to herself. His father said nothing, face buried in some book.

He didn’t need to be told a third time, and rushed upstairs to quickly change. Quickly was a bit of an exaggeration, as an hour had passed before he finally returned to the dining room. As though waiting for his arrival, the doorbell rang. His father stood to let in the guests while his mother settled into her seat. Kees could almost have smiled at how mundane this moment felt, and how much of a fresh breath of air that banality was. Almost. Without warning, the feast’s aromas were overpowered by the familiar stench of ozone and death.

A tall, blonde man waltzed into the room, sporting an extravagant black suit. He was trailed by a dark-skinned girl wearing plum-colored leather pants with a matching leather jacket. The attire matched her bouncy pink hair, but contrasted the boredom imprinted on her face. Behind the two of them, Victor prowled into the room with a wicked grin, made twice as daunting by a white eyepatch. Maybe he didn’t care about anyone seeing him, but he raised a single finger to his lips, letting his atma spread freely; a threat.

Kees was quiet the entire evening. Other than Victor’s entry into the dining space, he didn’t acknowledge the young boy’s existence. If it wasn’t for the scent of his atma, he might have doubted if it was the same man. He was charming, funny, and polite. Even the gentleness with which he handled the food on his plate was something to be envied. Each time his knife pierced meat, however, Kees’s stomach turned. Suddenly, he swayed the topic.

“So, Beenhouwers, if you had to choose one of your children to die to save the other two, which one would you pick?” The room went quiet. Iosef sat back, swiping his blond hair back from his face.

“Excuse me?!” Mr. Beenhouwer exclaimed.

“If you had to choose —”

“What the hell is wrong with you?” The man, fairly large in stature, shot up angrily. Victor stood from his seat and placed a hand on his shoulder, sitting him down with very little effort.

“This isn’t a hypothetical,” he said coldly, “Everybody into the living room. Leave your phones on the dinner table.” Nobody could overcome the silent fear tying them to their chairs. Victor sighed. He placed his finger by Mr. Beenhouwer’s ear, and ignited his atma. The man screamed in pain in response to the right side of his face cooking.

“What are you doing to him?” Mrs. Beenhouwer yelled. Their kids cried in panic. None of them could see the fire frying their father’s face. Victor repeated his command. This time they all scurried to the living room and sat on the floor, Kees included. He still hadn’t uttered a word, but silently slipped a knife into his pocket. There was no way he could take Victor, but he could certainly take his second eye. He made sure to sit on the left side of the older boy’s vision. Iosef looked amused, but said nothing. Venus began dozing off, completely uninterested in the night’s events.

“Now that you know I’m serious,” Victor broke into a lighthearted smile, “who’s it gonna be? If you don’t choose, I’ll kill all of them.”

“Is this about the zoo?” Kees’s father cried in pain, “You can have it! Give me the papers, I’ll sign them!”

Iosef laughed.

“We haven’t even gotten to the good part yet,” he stood from his seat, producing some folded up contracts from the breast pocket of his suit, “Nevertheless, I will take you up on that offer.” The waxen man couldn’t help but chuckle at the simplicity of the affair, as the owner signed away his life. Blood truly was the best currency.

“There, it’s signed. Please, let us go.” The man begged.

“Sure. As soon as you pick. One child, or all of them.” Victor reiterated. At this point, Mrs. Beenhouwer joined in on the begging. Her children wept while Kees looked for an opening that would not present itself. This man in the suit was dangerous, as was the sleeping girl. He could see her atma flowing from her navel and into Iosef’s back like some sort of leash. Eventually, Victor pushed the father aside and instead reached for the mother, violently grabbing her hair while her children clung on. Kees shot up, hand reaching for his knife. Despite his stomach-churning fear, he took a brave stance.

Victor took one look at the boy then mocked him, pretending to be scared. Igniting his entire free hand, he brought it to Mrs. Beenhouwer’s neck.

“Your turn, mama bear.” Before any action could be made, any more words could be uttered, a horrible thing spewed from Mr. Beenhouwer’s mouth.

“Take Kees.” The boy couldn’t believe what he’d just heard. It was almost as bad as what he didn’t hear; any form of objection from anybody in the room. The only thing audible was his heart beating against his ribcage. His entire life played before his eyes, though not in the way books and movies led him to believe. Not that rapid reliving of memories, but a slow mulling over his dreary existence. The overwhelming weight of the loneliness he’d felt his entire life was magnified by his father’s confirmation of a terrible truth. He was nothing. Not a classmate, not a friend, not a brother, not a son. Not even human.

His vision blurred briefly with tears, but cleared just as quickly, dried out by rage. Victor and Iosef laughed simultaneously, so much so that the white-haired boy keeled over in a fit. Kees’s knuckles tightened around the steak knife’s handle and ran at him. Except the warm steel found its way into his father, his atma powered hands easily breaking through resistance. The chaos resumed. His anger guided the blade into his mother’s throat. And then his brother’s. And then his sister’s. The howling he let out was hardly human. Fitting. He thrashed about wildly, looking for flesh to sink his pain into.

Kees finally looked up when he smelled smoke, and looked around to see the house was engulfed in a blend of blue and orange fire. He hadn’t noticed Victor set fire to the place, or leave with his cohorts, in part because their mocking laughter continued to echo in his head.

Meanwhile, the trio waltzed around the empty nighttime zoo. It was eerie in the dark, and yet peaceful, unaware of the circumstances of its new management. Victor walked ahead of Iosef, who carried Venus on his back.

“Now that it’s done, are ya gonna tell me what the zoo’s for?”

“You certainly took your time with it, with your penchant for theatrics. But I did promise you an answer,” Iosef replied, “When I get my body back, I’ll be able to use my technique again. And for that technique, I require strong and healthy animals.”

Victor looked dumbfounded.

“Is that not the answer you were expecting?” Iosef laughed.

“No, it’s just…what do you mean you can’t use your technique?”

“The conditions of my revival were…peculiar. Venus had to create a Contract, trading away my technique in order to be able to bring me back.”

“Trade your technique for what, exactly? Contracts require fair exchange, don’t they?”

“Yes, that’s right, but I can’t divulge that information so casually.”

“Aw,” Victor moaned, “why not?”

“I know what you are, Victor. I know what you did during your Orchestra.

Everything that makes you you is exactly why you’re here. But it’s also why nobody gets too close.”

“Especially now. With Venus sleeping, and my weaker wax body, I’m sure he thinks he’s at an advantage. Telling him I can’t use my technique is the final test of his loyalty,” Iosef thought.

“You’re making me blush,” Victor shrugged, “after all, it’s not like I care if there are people around me or not. That being said, you don’t need to worry about me going off-script. This group of ours is a fun little chapter for me, and everyone must play their roles accordingly.”

“Hm,” Iosef continued walking, “who said I was worried about you?” Victor stopped, and let the man walk ahead of him.

“Your body’s made of wax. Venus is sleeping. Yet you tell me you have no technique. This is a test.” The boy said. Impressive deductive skills. “And my response is this: betraying the Pantheon is counterproductive to my progress.”

“Oh?” Iosef arched an eyebrow, “And what progress is that?”

“The path. When you brought me in, you painted a vision of the future of humanity and the pursuit of godhood; homo deus, you called it. I am Chosen by Him,” Victor smiled as a single tear rolled down his face, “My path, my purpose, is to prepare myself to become like God. As such, our destinies, Boss, are intertwined. So long as you, too, are illuminated by Him, I cannot take action against you.”

Iosef stared at the boy.

“What the hell is he talking about?”

“I see. Bound by God, huh?” The wax doll of a man walked away. This insight into Victor’s psyche was…informative.

He’d be a loyal lieutenant within this small organization, and it was essential that Iosef gauged who his allies really were. He felt that, in time, their group would split apart. After all, almost every member of the team had differing end goals with only two checkpoints in common; the destruction of the Maestro’s Institute of Innovation, and the death of Tamara Cain.