Beckon

“Now do you understand the impact of what I’m offering you?” Vale said, looking at George. “Both of you?”

George blinked. “Both of us?”

“You didn’t think we would give your wife this gift and not make it available to you as well.”

George was momentarily stunned as he considered the opportunity Vale offered him. This perilium not only gave people a second chance at life, but a whole new life altogether. It was almost too incredible to wrap his mind around. He was seventy-three years old, and by drinking this substance once every few days he could turn the clock back… forty years? Fifty?

Miriam leaned forward. “So then… excuse me for asking, but how old are you?”

“I was born in Richmond, Virginia, on October 16… 1847.”

“Eighteen…,” Miriam breathed. “But… that’s impossible.”

“Impossible?” Vale raised his eyebrows. “You’ve looked in the mirror. Is that impossible? Is that too good to be true?”

George was shaking his head. “So you’re more than 160 years old?”

Vale’s smile faded slightly and his yellow-green eyes were solemn. “Now you understand why I must keep perilium a secret. And why I have to go to such lengths to protect this place.”

George could barely think clearly enough to consider the ramifications of what Vale was saying. This was the most significant medical discovery in history. It screamed to be shared with all of humanity, yet George understood what chaos would ensue if this ever became known. Vale’s little retreat would be overrun by the masses. Everyone in the world would come to Wyoming seeking a slice of immortality.

But now—to make the matter more intriguing—Vale was offering this miracle to him. George looked again at his own aging hands. What would he give for the chance to reverse the effect that time had had on him? The chance to be young again with Miriam? The chance to live… forever?

Then Miriam’s voice drew him from his thoughts.

“This isn’t natural.” She put her hand on George’s arm. “You can’t just cheat death like this. Not without suffering some consequences.”

“Consequences?” Vale said. “Do you mean consequences like having three lifetimes’ worth of acquired knowledge and experience? Perfect health? Resistance to illness and injury?”

“Injury?” George repeated.

Vale nodded. “The body’s natural healing processes are hyperstimulated. We’re not certain precisely how it works, but we’re getting close.”

George looked from Vale to Miriam. “So someone taking perilium can’t be killed?”

Vale chuckled. “I wish that were the case. No, our bodies can sustain physical trauma to such a degree that not even perilium can help. It won’t grow back a limb, for example. Nor does it prevent someone from, say… drowning or suffocating. But I can tell you that most injuries—even gunshots, if not immediately fatal—can heal within minutes. Broken bones, depending on the severity of the break, will heal within a few hours.”

Miriam was shaking her head. “So… forgive my cynicism here, but what’s the catch? I can’t believe this perilium has no negative side effects.”

Vale narrowed his eyes at George. “You haven’t related our conversation to her?”

Miriam frowned and turned to George as well. “What conversation?”

“Uh… well…” George had hoped to explain the situation to her in his own time. On his own terms. But truthfully, he hadn’t even figured out exactly how he was going to broach the topic. Now he stammered, trying to find the words to explain it all to her.

Finally Vale interjected, “The beneficial effects of perilium require a regular regimen to maintain. But as long as you continue your treatment schedule, you should retain your health—and youth—indefinitely.”

“Regular regimen?” Miriam fell silent a moment. “What exactly does that mean? Just how often do I have to take this stuff?”

“That all depends on your body’s specific response to the treatment,” Vale said. “But in your case, most likely once every few days.”

“And how often do you have to take it?”

George stared at his wife. A few days ago she didn’t even know her own name. Now she was back to her old self again, going after Vale like an attorney questioning a beleaguered defendant on the witness stand. George watched Vale draw a breath and could see a slight tightening of his lips.

“Those of us who have been here longer take a daily dose.”

“Daily,” Miriam said. “So then, the older you get, the more you need.”

“A minor consequence.” Vale tried to shrug off her comment. “It was to be expected.”

“And if you stop taking it?”

Vale’s eyes narrowed. It was as if that thought had never even crossed his mind. “Then of course the beneficial effects would wear off as well.”

“And I assume everyone in town… they all have to get their daily allotments from you?”

“Yes.”

“And where do you get it?”

Vale glanced at George as if expecting him to intervene, but George could only shake his head. Vale’s eyes flicked back to Miriam. “From a local tribe called the N’watu,” he said. “They discovered the secret of perilium a long time ago.”

“But you don’t know what it is.”

“We’re… addressing that issue.”

“Addressing it? So this tribe—the N’watu?—right now they’re the only ones who know how to make this perilium?”

“From what we’ve been able to determine, the primary element is an organic component that we believe exists only in the caves in this area.”

“But still,” Miriam pressed, “you don’t know how to make it yourself.”

Vale sighed and seemed to concede the point. “It’s an ancient secret, yes. They’re very guarded about it.”

Miriam laughed. “So you’re just as much a prisoner here as everyone else.”

Vale shook his head. His tone grew terse. “To be completely free from disease, from aging—you call this a prison?”

“It’s not just disease and aging we suffer from, Mr. Vale,” Miriam countered. “You can never leave this place, can you? You’re like a drug addict. And you have to do whatever they tell you to; am I right? The one who supplies the drugs always has power over the ones who take them.”

Vale stood. George could see his pale complexion turning pink. “You’re making judgments about things you know nothing about, Mrs. Wilcox. I suggest you discuss this decision in depth with your husband. If I can’t persuade you of the benefits of this arrangement, perhaps he can.”

As soon as Vale had left the room, Miriam turned to George. “How could you have gone along with this?”

George hung his head. Now he was on the stand. “You don’t know what it was like to watch you drift away from me over the last four years. To have you looking at me like I was a stranger. To watch you… fall out of love with me.”

“I was the one with the disease, George.”

“And you said yourself you didn’t want to go back there again. You know how terrible that was. What would you have done for me?”

Miriam paused, her lips tightened a moment, and she looked down. “Do you really think you can live forever?”

“I don’t know what to think,” George said. “They told me it would cure your Alzheimer’s. They didn’t say anything about longevity. Or that we’d have to move here. I just knew we’d be together again.”

Miriam touched his cheek. “Sweetheart…”

“But we could live another eighty or ninety years at least. Maybe twice that. What could we do with that kind