Cherry Jubilee

Chapter 1

I am sitting hungover on a bench by the race track, waiting for a taxi, when a black town car pulls up and two bald men bundle me in to take me to Afterlife headquarters.

My affairs have all been taken care of, they say. My domestic lease and other assets have been liquidated and added to my Afterlife account. My contacts have been notified and consoled.

The CEO of Afterlife has a proposition for me, I am informed. They don't know what it is, but the men have been assured I will say yes, once I hear it. I don't awe easily, but their tone compels me.

The car pulls up outside Afterlife's glass atrium, and the men hand me to a team of armoured security guards, who hurry me into the building, shielding me from the crowd of shouting Salvationists.

I absent-mindedly tug at my blazer as we pass to try and hide my soft muffin top, the last earthly remnant of my daughter Faith. Not worth contemplating what the Salvationists would think of me if they knew how she ended up.

A chilling reminder that even after how supportive all my colleagues have been, there are still places where you can be executed, or worse, for nutrifying your own offspring. That kind of thinking feels like it belongs to a different century, to a world totally lost in denial of its predicament.

I'm not forced to dwell on that world for very long. Once the glass doors close behind us, it's as though all the misery, destitution and delusion of the old dying humanity vanishes, and I belong, body and soul, to the heavenly clean glow of Afterlife. I almost exhale with relief, to my embarrassment, but I just about maintain my politely hostile exterior.

A man greets me in the lobby. He's young, with frameless glasses, and plump, plumper than me. Either he has recently polished off his entire family, or he's been into the secret organic food stores we all joke about the trillionaires keeping.

"Doctor Anaphora, welcome. My name is Jared, I'm the principality executive for this city. Did you have a comfortable car ride?"

His handshake is as soft and substantial as his chins. Most people he meets probably melt when he touches them. Real obesity like his is rare and enchanting, to rubes at least.

Two hundred years ago, a guy like him would have done anything to lose all that weight.  Curious how priorities change.

"Please, Doctor Anaphora is what my friends call me. Mary is fine."

He laughs. "Of course, Mary. I hear you had a great many friends."

"My colleagues are usually as friendly as I need them to be."

"Ooh, chills. You sound perfect. Will you follow me?"

"I'd like to know what this is, first. It doesn't feel like a standard disappearing."

He pulls at his cuff. "It isn't. But I'm afraid I can't be the one to brief you. The CEO will tell you everything himself once you arrive in Afterlife."