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- The Matriarch Matrix: Mystery of the Matriarchs Book I
- The Matriarch From Beyond | Mark Cherrio Book | In-Stock - Buy Now | at Mighty Ape NZ
What do I do? Heart rate beyond tachycardic, clammy hands in tight fists, he looks around in panic for someone. Forget where, who is she? Oh, I wish, I wish I could remember these ordeals of my nights. Did I just dream of a gun? I hate guns. Why would I dream of things that scare me? He glances back into the oval mirror over the sink in his small bathroom. He brushes back his sandy brown hair, with vestiges of the blondness of his younger days. He tries to smile to show his dimples, but he can only frown as the bags under his eyes signal the fatigue his nightly dramas bring.
A mug full of microwave-heated imitation gourmet coffee and Peter is ready to start his day at his dilapidated desk, perpendicularly placed next to his one window that provides just a peek of his precious Pacific fog.
The walls of his tiny place are bare save three posters, ones that remind him of someone who meant so much to him. The newest with all the Starship Enterprises, from the 60s to the seventh of the reboot series. Another with all the alien gods and goddess of the Stargate franchises.
And one emblazoned with the X-Files motto: I want to believe. He clasps his MoxWrap around his wrist like a lucky rabbit foot. He needs some luck to go his way again. He could never have afforded one of these, but one day last year, MoxWorld Holdings sent him one free.
Totally free, with no service fees, even. He won one of those contests where he answered a series of questions. Somewhat personal questions, but free is free. MoxWorld clearly demonstrated to him why they were the worldwide leaders in all things digital. Out of nowhere, they even sent him a free upgraded unit last week. For the better. The MoxWrap is simply revolutionary.
Lighter than the now-obsolete smartphone, with the comfort of a terry-cloth wristband, the MoxWrap contains the power of a personal command center.
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With solar-assisted batteries, the run time vastly exceeds all previous options. You could be in the wilderness for days, and as long as the sun shines, you will have around-the-clock minicomputer power through its satellite links to hectares of processors, the largest databases in the world, and infinite memory capacity. Triple the bandwidth and burst speeds of the best alternative technology allows for applications never imaginable until now.
Congratulations on a smart decision. Keyboards are the instruments of his music. Of his magic. For he is an editor. A copy editor, making the written work of others that much better. He reads his messages, deleting all but the flagged one from MoxMedia he has kept for two days.
Fingers tapping the desk, he waits for a message from his managing editor, Jerrod, with news of his bonus, as well as—maybe—an offer to become permanent and no longer a contractor. He rubs his MoxWrap again, wishing for luck. He picks up an old-fashioned picture frame on his desk that holds an equally old-fashioned photo print of a woman.
The Matriarch Matrix: Mystery of the Matriarchs Book I
Someone else no longer in his life, who meant so much to him. She is attractively and tastefully posed, with her long dishwater-blond hair in a ponytail cascading down the front of her open plaid shirt, which is tied at the bottom, covering her sports bra. Her raggedy blue jean cut-offs accent her lovely tanned legs, which slip right into her grey woolen socks, encased in her medium-height brown hiking boots. She was picture-perfect, his goddess at the top of Mount Shasta.
Running in the fog is his best therapy for the fog of his brain, trying to resolve what he cannot fathom during his dark dreams. Walking up to his studio room after his morning ritual outing, he hears his MoxWrap sound. And Dr. I hope she liked the final edit of her book.
Looking out the bus window at his native California, Peter sees a land of cars, about sixteen million of them. As he rides the No. Peter wishes someone could change this. He taps his MoxWrap to watch the MoxMedia morning news program. The world-renowned newscasters Rhonda and Sahir blare out the latest global events on this Friday morning.
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Recall that back in , the catalyst for the creation of the Arabic Confederation and the New Kurdistan out of the former Syria and Iraq was the price of oil tumbling below twenty-five dollars per barrel, sending the region into chaos once again. In Europe, the Great Recession continues to take its toll as France and Germany retrench spending again for the rest of , announcing their inability to fund NATO obligations.
More after these messages. As the only grandson of Nikolas Gollinger, Peter carries a deep unspoken obligation, the only heir to the family mission his grandfather has passed along their calling, their quest, their pursuit, their ancestral commitments. Jenny at the front desk knows Peter very well, given how frequently he visits.
Even the attending physicians do not come as often as Peter. Gollinger is finished with his breakfast and is expecting you…Peter, Mr. Oh yes, Dr. Fontaine is here today. She would like to talk with you. Could you stop by her office? Is he okay?
I think Dr. Fontaine, Peter Gollinger is here. Shall I send him down?
The Matriarch From Beyond | Mark Cherrio Book | In-Stock - Buy Now | at Mighty Ape NZ
He sees her waiting in the hallway outside her office. The coat is open and Peter can see she wears a white cotton blouse and grey wool pencil skirt underneath. He looks at her business cards on the desk. After hanging her white lab coat behind the door, which she closes, Dr. Fontaine opts to sit in the other patient chair, facing him with her legs crossed, top one pointing at Peter.
My savior. I finished reviewing all your changes and suggestions to my latest manuscript…our latest manuscript. Fontaine says. Fontaine, of course—you deserve the best a simple editor like me can offer. And I mean not just your editorial skills, but your compassion. Having been a smoker for most of his life has taken its toll on his lungs. That would be the end of him, at least his spirit. He really wants to be cognizant in his last days. My colleagues and the nurses are afraid of his restless nights, his dreams, and how unsettled he is every morning.
Elfante and I had a long discussion about the situation, and I convinced him, after much personal observation, that your grandfather is not endangering himself or other patients. Smoking was one of the ways he had been coping with this disorder. As he felt more comfortable talking with me, he described her administration of a special palliative care. He confessed that prolonged passionate interactions with his wife helped him more than the smoking.
At first I dismissed his comments as reflective of male wish fulfillment typical in men of his generation. His condition could perhaps be the subject of another paper. The dream is the way to transform that wish in a nonthreatening way. Peter is saved by the intercom buzzing. Fitzgerald again. A single room, as the restlessness of his dreams has precluded his peaceful cohabitation with another elderly patient. His grandfather is slightly elevated in bed, with an oxygen mask over a nasal cannula, indicating he is under duress.
Needing a little more oxygen this morning? My boy. You two have been spending some quality time together.
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How was your night? Anything clearer? What I would give for a peaceful night. Even the partial peace your grandmother provided. Ninety-four years of this. And what about you?