Cemeteries -- Fiction; Death care industry -- Fiction; Rich people -- Fiction; Science fiction; Short stories
Steen's fingers flicked over the set of hidden controls on his desk.
Everything was in readiness. "And another innocent fish gets hooked,"
he muttered to himself. He sighed once, shortly, then touched an
invisible button. "I will see Joseph Krieg now." In the outer office
Steen's aide-de-camp, Assistant Consolator Braun, sprang to an attitude
of proper deference as the huge bronze doors swung open. Braun bowed
slightly as Joseph Krieg strode past him and into the onyx chamber.
* * * * *
Steen's eyes narrowed in admiration as he examined the man walking
towards him. Joseph Krieg was a huge person, just past middle age but
still retaining the hardened appearance of late youth. His face had
a chiseled squareness to it, and his manner indicated not so much
wealth as it did an obvious determination to succeed. This would be an
interesting fish to play with indeed, Steen thought.
About half-way to the desk Krieg stumbled slightly, but recovered
his pace with the cumbersome grace of some massive animal. A smile
flickered briefly over Steen's face. The thickness of the carpet had
more purposes than one. When Krieg was almost upon him, Steen stood up.
Krieg stopped in front of the desk, facing Steen, as if waiting for
some signal. Steen, who knew the value of silence, remained absolutely
still. After a few seconds, obviously perplexed, Krieg smiled
nervously. "Consolator Steen?"
"Welcome to Earth, Joseph Krieg. Welcome to the Heart of the Galaxy."
Steen's voice was rich, mellifluous, and the words fell from his mouth
like benedictions. He extended a hand. "Won't you please be seated?"
The chair received Krieg's body as if it were the most precious burden
it had ever held. Its soft contours almost demanded that he relax,
yield the tenseness of his muscles to its smooth and welcoming shape.
Its surface closed around him as if it were a second skin, then began
to tingle in gentle caress. Joseph Krieg had never felt so comforted in
his life.
Consolator Steen seated himself behind his desk, then waited until
his assistant, Braun, had taken a chair some feet away. He smiled
paternally. "May I ask you one favor? Would it seem presumptuous if
I called you Joseph? Perhaps you would feel it an impertinence on my
part, but...." Consolator Steen gestured slightly with both his hands,
as if to implore forgiveness.
Joseph Krieg smiled, nodded his head. "Of course I won't mind if you
use my first name. It would be an honor, Sir." The smile continued on
his face, but his eyes narrowed as if he were attempting to puzzle out
the figure behind the desk.
"You will excuse me too if I say that you've come too soon, Joseph,"
the Consolator said.
"Too soon?" Krieg replied quizzically. "I don't think I...."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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