Immediately Forgettable

Chapter 11

The Sun had set the horizon ablaze with a beautiful deep orange hue as Jen and I pulled back into the main corporate facilities.

"Hungry?" she asked, already knowing the answer. It was an exciting day and I was famished. She seemed to be as well, so we headed for the cafeteria. It was past the main dinner hour, so only a few employees were seated, dotted among the tables in small groups or dining solo.

There was a small balcony above the main hall with room for a single table. Though the space seemed to be able to hold about 10 diners, it held one -- an older man, dressed in a suit, quietly eating his dinner. I nodded to Jen, "Is that Mr. King?" She looked up, but she already knew the answer. "Yes. Guess he got caught up in something and had to push his dinner late. That's not unusual."

I tried to get a good look at the man in the flesh. I was a good distance away, and below him, so it wasn't easy. I could see traces of the man on my I.D., but something was off. I just couldn't place it. My thoughts were broken by Jen shouting, "Hello Mr. King!" I cringed a little, but Jen didn't notice. My specialty was studying people without them knowing it, and now the person next to me was waving her arm excitedly at my subject. I took a short step to the right, away from Jen. Sort of implying that I wasn't with her, although normally I would be thrilled for anyone to think I was with her.

King looked down from his regal setting, squinted for a moment, and smiled. He gestured Jen toward him. "Oh, good," said Jen. "He wants us to join him. I was hoping for that. Let's grab our food and head on up."

We grabbed some food and I followed Jen up a rear stairwell that opened on to the balcony. There sat the man himself -- the sole person at a table set for 10. Jen moved to one side of him, and I to the other. He and Jen started discussing some unresolved work matters, which may have been important for me to know, but I wasn't listening -- I was taking a good look at this enigmatic genius.

Up close, the differences between the man and face splashed throughout the compound were obvious. The eyes not as blue, the white hair not as white. He looked as though he were about my size. Average height. A few lines about the face, but nothing extraordinary. Nothing that showed how hard or easy his life had been to that point. A few laugh lines dotted his eyes, not enough to tell you anything about the man really.

It wasn't long before they had completed their work, because King shortly turned to me. "Mr. Laine," he began with a voice most unremarkable. I was expecting the boom of the Great Oz himself, but perhaps he saved that for when he was safely behind one of his giant Photoshopped heads. "I am a great fan of your writing."

I thanked him without actually believing him. It was something you say to editors. I heard it plenty of times from people who couldn't remember meeting me a half dozen times before. But King didn't stop there. He sited a few of my stories that happened to be ones I was particularly proud of. Maybe he did some research, but even if so, he picked the right ones.

We had a pleasant enough meal. King was good company, and I was already in love with Jen, so there was that. I think I was impressing her as King and I discussed the current state of farm technology, although I admitted I had never seen anything as sophisticated as what he himself had created.

"Yes, we have done many wonderful things here," he said, gesturing with his arms in the air to imply the whole facility, "but we are only getting started. We are going to propel this world into the future."

Again, this was a phrase oft said, typically by marketers hawking a new product that was anything but earthshaking. And King's average inflection didn't make me think that this was anything more than corporate hype.

Our food had been consumed and we sat a while longer, but the meal was clearly at an end. King turned to Jen and recommended she stay at one of the apartments on the compound this evening, all the better to finish my tour tomorrow morning. Jen liked the idea, saying she always enjoyed staying here. King told her to head off, as he wanted to talk to me a little longer. Jen stood up, said goodnight, and left. I watched her walk out the door, knowing with certainty that she wouldn't remember me tomorrow morning, but praying that she would. I turned back to King to see him studying me. "Let us retire to my office," he said, without removing his eyes from me.