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conference
even begins, he is murdering the locals and framing the rest of us
for the crime.”
    Hess sighed. “Does Drake need help disposing
of it?”
    “That was handled. What we need is for you to
distract Erik.”
    “I can't promise anything.”
    “Just try.”
    “Sure. I'll try.”
    As nine o'clock arrived, the other Observers
filed into the room, bringing with them a sullen silence. They sat
around the table with arms folded or reclined to watch the ceiling
or hunched over in apathetic study of their own hands. Greg cleared
his throat. “Shall we begin?”
    Drake pushed to his feet. “Screw that. I got
something to say. We need to do something about Erik.”
    “Oh, do we now?” Erik bared his teeth in a
predator's smile. “Pray tell, tit-sucker. What you got
planned?”
    “You put that fucking head on my night
stand.”
    Erik raised his hands in mock surprise. “A
head? On your night stand? Oh my lucky stars. I am just beside
myself. Who would do such a thing? My guess is Twelve . All
we know about that guy is he's deceptive as fuck.”
    “Everyone knows it was you,” Drake said. “You
better watch yourself, Erik, we're not happy with you.”
    “Oh, cupcake, you hurt my feelings. I can't
believe you don't like my presents. Why, you didn't even mention
the hand.” Erik held his wrist up to his mouth so his fingers
projected out before his face. “I put a fucking hand inside the
mouth to wave hello. Better than flowers, I thought.”
    Erik's smile continued to meet Drake's glare,
growing more intense as his opponent's ire morphed into discomfort.
Drake sat with a huff, crossing his arms and turning his gaze
away.
    Greg spoke quickly. “So who wants to go
first?”
    “You go,” Griff said. “This was your
idea.”
    “This is the Creator's idea.” Greg fidgeted
in his seat. “I only suggested adding some structure. Should we go
in alphabetical order?”
    In response, Drake fixed a glare on Greg.
    “Fine. Then someone else decide the order of
presentation. I'm tired of being the responsible party.”
    Griff grunted. “You're not any kind of
party.”
    Natalia stood. With all eyes on her, she
glided to the cupboard like a gray-haired ghost and withdrew paper,
pencil, and an envelope. Her knobby hands folded the sheet of paper
into regular sections and tore it on the lines with rapid
precision. She scribbled numbers down onto twelve scraps, folded
each in half, and swept them into the envelope.
    Without a word, she went around the table,
holding the envelope for each of them to draw a number. As Hess
drew, he noticed Natalia had trapped a slip of paper between her
fingers and the side of the envelope. It was a clumsy bit of
sleight of hand, but he didn't think anyone else noticed. Even had
he cared to point out her deception, he had drawn number
eleven.
    After Natalia returned to her seat, she
folded her hands in her lap and nodded to Greg in a gesture that
made clear she intended to do no more. The attention of everyone
drifted back to Greg. He shrugged. “Who has number one?” Griff
tossed his scrap of paper onto the table.
    Greg continued to count off the numbers. Mel
was second, Drake third, Ingrid fourth, then Elza, Erik, Greg,
Kerzon, San, Jerome, Hess, and finally Natalia. “Then that is our
order of presentation. Are you ready to speak, Griff? Or do you
need a short break to prepare?”
    “Don't matter either way.”
    “Then everyone please give Griff your full
attention.”
     
     

Chapter 4 – Hess
    Griff sat with hands folded on the table
before him, brows shading shifty eyes that scanned back and forth
as if reading from invisible note cards. For over two minutes,
Griff kept them waiting in silence. When he finally spoke, he did
so in a deliberative monotone, pausing often in mid-sentence to
select his words.
    “I don't know that my opinion on existence is
particularly deep or . . . insightful or . . . worthy or anything
like that. Most of you are smarter than I ever claimed to