The Reincarnation

Dr. John Persey stepped from the cab to the curb. As the cab sped back toward the airport, Dr. Persey faced the building that towered in front of him: The Church.

At first glance, the building that housed The Medical Church of America Headquarters looked like a church. The enormous steeple, the stained glass windows, the high pitched roofs – they all imparted church to the viewer. But below this, at the base of the building, the edifice revealed more. The blocky structure below, industrial gray, looked more like a hospital. As skillfully as the Church had woven together an ideology uniting medicine and religion, so had they constructed a building that accurately conveyed this philosophy. Dr. Persey walked toward it.

He had never been there before, but had heard rumors. How at Headquarters, the Church dealt with problems swiftly and decisively. How it often dispatched employees that didn’t live up to their expectations. This last thought rang through Dr. Persey’s mind as he entered the building. He was already sweating.

The lobby was empty. It was a cavernous hall, and Dr. Persey felt very alone as his footsteps echoed back to him. He also felt very small, very insignificant. After all, he was only one person at one part of one arm of the Church. He was small to the person waiting for him upstairs. He hoped he wasn’t insignificant.

One elevator stood with its doors open. It seemed to beckon him, and he entered it. It swallowed him whole and spat him upward. He reached his destination in seconds.

The elevator’s doors opened, melting Dr. Persey’s brief security of solitude, and bared him to an immense conference room. Ahead, he could see the outline of two people silhouetted by the sun that blazed through the stained glass windows. They were at the far end of a huge conference table, black as obsidian. The sun gleamed off of it, but along its enormous length Dr. Persey saw no interruptions. He thought it must be solid marble. He kept to the right of it, heading for the larger silhouette.

“Dr. John Persey. You wanted to see me, sir?”

“Jack, can I call you Jack? I am so glad you could make it. Please sit down.” The larger silhouette motioned toward a chair on its left.

Dr. Persey extended his hand to the glowing, back-lit man in front of him, and after shaking his hand, sat in one of the many chairs surrounding the table. He couldn’t make out any features on the man’s face. The sun coming through the glass made the room a rainbow of colors, and Dr. Persey sat facing both the people and the glass. He was as good as blind.

“Let me introduce myself...and my son. I am, as I am sure you know, Ralph Bishop. This is my son, Ralph Bishop Junior.”

Dr. Persey stood up and extended his hand over the table to Ralph Junior. Ralph Junior remained seated.

“That will not be necessary, Jack. Ralph Junior has trouble standing, let alone shaking hands.”

Dr. Persey looked at the smaller, but stouter silhouette. Around it he noticed a boxy frame. He presumed this was a wheelchair.

“I really do not know what to do with him, Jack. He has been this way for fifteen years, and the Church cannot seem to help him. Any ideas?”

Dr. Persey was sweating profusely. If his nerves weren’t bad enough, the heat from the sun blaring through the windows wasn’t helping. He saw the younger Bishop shift in his wheelchair and lean slightly forward, cocking his head the tiniest bit, as if anxious for an answer to a question he had likely heard dozens, if not hundreds, of times before, probably from the best doctors in the world, but apparently without solutions for him nonetheless.

Dr. Persey cleared his throat and answered. “As...as you know, Mr. Bishop, I mainly work with...with vitrified people. I’m afraid I don’t know much about the living.” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Dr. Persey regretted them. He knew how nervous he sounded, and he knew how foolish his answer was. Of course he knew about living people. What was he saying?

“Very well, then. We should probably get down to business, yes?”

Dr. Persey noticed a black briefcase on the table to Bishop’s left. It seemed to crouch there, like a dog. Dr. Persey wouldn’t have been surprised to see the elder Bishop reach out and pet it. Instead, Ralph Bishop leaned forward and placed his elbows on the huge conference table. At this angle, Dr. Persey could finally see him. He looked to be about thirty, but Dr. Persey knew he was over sixty. A shock of black hair fully covered the top of the man’s head, although he should have gone gray a decade ago. Dr. Persey felt a new surge of sweat break out on his body.

“Yes, Mr. Bishop. Business. That’s why I’m here.” Dr. Persey squirmed in his chair, then continued. “As you know, we were finally successful in reviving our first patient. He –”

“He was the oldest of the lot. Name of David Sperling. Good work, Jack, you are to be commended for your work at the Lab.”

Dr. Persey relaxed and sat back in his chair. He noticed the words that were written in the stained glass window above the Bishops’ heads. “Abstain from fleshly lusts, which war against the soul. (Peter 2:11).” Dr. Persey was reflecting on this when the elder Ralph interrupted his thoughts.

“But he got away from you.” The words came out all run together.

“I am aware of that. Probably gone for good. What about his Other?” This last word both excited and repulsed Dr. Persey.

“Well, you called at a bad time, you see. We had Grey down there and he –”

“He is going to track him. Very well, Jack. Good move on your part. He will not elude Victor for long, I am sure of that. And while Victor ties up that loose end...”

“Yes, I’m sure we’ll find him. Then we can begin the tests –”

“The tests are useless without both of them, Jack. Useless. And I do not want to wait that long. I want you to proceed with the revivals. I want you to start with those whose families have no hope of ever being able to afford the procedure. Better yet, those without families. They can become what Mr. Sperling was to be. Do your testing on them. And for the sake of God...” Bishop crossed himself before continuing, “get some security down there. I do not want the next one escaping. Or their Other.”

“Yes, sir. Right away, sir. You can count on me, sir.” Something about the way Bishop talked grated on Dr. Persey, but he could not place it.

“Very well. But do not think your incompetence has gone unnoticed. You are very valuable to us, Jack, but this cannot happen again. I do not want to have to make an example of you.”

“Thank you, sir. I won’t let you down again, sir.”

Dr. Persey heard people entering the conference room at the other end of the table. He turned his head, but couldn’t make anything out, his eyes showing only after-images of the sun through the stained glass; the blues yellow, the reds green, the now-white silhouette of Bishop.

“We were about to have lunch. I would invite you to join us, but you probably want to get back to your work. Yes?”

“Right away, sir.” Dr. Persey scrambled out of his chair and walked toward the elevator. Passing the lunch staff on his way, he saw they were pushing a huge service tray. Before the elevator doors closed, the meal was laid out before the Bishops.

When they lifted the domed lid of the tray, Dr. Persey saw the outline of a pig. His nose confirmed what he saw – the smell of cooked flesh ripped into his sinuses, choking them.

He held his hand to his mouth as the elevator doors cut off the scene.