The Mediator Pattern by J.D. Lee

Author:J.D. Lee
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: entertaining, free, time travel, alternate history, novella, smart, intelligent, must read, male lead, dystopian best sellers

Chapter X

Marcus sat on the edge of a white, plastic, ergonomically contoured chair. His hands were clasped firmly in his lap. The beaming image of Colin Belis stared at Marcus from atop the neatly stacked magazines on the glass-topped table before him. Belis’s two-dimensional countenance was encased by a halo of golden rays and surrounded by white songbirds frozen into the flat, blue background. Green blades of grass lined the edges of the cover and over them were the words The Rise of Colin Belis printed in italics along the bottom of the page.

“Fall,” Marcus whispered to himself.

The waiting room was empty. Bright fluorescent lights illuminated the horizontally running steel bars embedded in the purple-hued wall. Thick glass circles were dispersed in a grid-like matrix across the floor, radiating distorted eggs of light on the marble swirls of the dome-shaped ceiling above.

Marcus was still feeling the effects of the farewell spliff he had smoked with Stacy. He paid no attention to the eccentric, postmodern decor of the waiting area. He kept his eyes locked on Colin Belis. He stared as he waited. He knew what he had to do. He cycled his plans through his brain, echoing Avant’s instructions.

It seemed to be only minutes to Marcus, when a tall, broad-shouldered man entered the room, breaking his meditation. The man’s frame blocked the light and casted an elongated shadow across the room, enveloping Marcus and alienating him from his surroundings. The man moved closer. His shadow encroached, looming over Marcus.

“Can I help you?” Marcus asked as he strained his neck up toward the towering man's face.

Light ripped at the boundary between the man’s silhouette and the marble above, blurring the shape of his flat, square head.

“I am Reg,” the shadowy giant responded, “Follow me.” He had a surprisingly soft voice for such a large man.

Marcus grunted as he stood to his feet. Now facing the soft-spoken behemoth, Marcus was able to better distinguish his attributes. The man, Reg, wore his reddish-brown hair short and high above his ears. He possessed deep black, button eyes beneath thick, wiry eyebrows. His jaw extended a good two inches beyond his thick neck. He wore a skin-tight, navy-blue deep-necked zippered vest and matching pressed slacks.

Marcus’s nose sat in line with the bottom of the man’s zipper neckline. The navy blue accentuated the man’s pale skin stretched taut against his pectorals and oversized collarbone. The veins in his neck throbbed rhythmically with the expansion and contraction of his chest as he breathed his salty breath through his nostrils and down upon Marcus.

From the way he stood, Marcus could tell he had been in the military, if he wasn’t still. Probably from the same outfit as the last Reg, Marcus thought to himself.

“You’re not Reg.” Marcus grumbled into the man’s chest. “Where’s the girl with the attitude? I’ve been— ”

Marcus stopped. He realized that what he was about to say would help him no more than it would make sense. More than that, Marcus’s cognitive echoes, as

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