The taste of copper

Part 1

The first thing Adam noticed was the taste of copper in his mouth. The second was a searing pain, like a needle between his eyes. Just for a second and then it was gone. He opened his eyes, and still there was only darkness. But he wasn’t blind. The darkness was like a blanket, impenetrable and all around. On all fours he moved forward, trying to find something to grasp onto. Something real. And there it was, a faint light in the distance. With a sudden burst of speed he raced toward the small point of light, fueled by a spark of hope to vanquish the darkness. Rapidly, the small point of light widened into the mouth of a cave. When he reached the verge, where light and dark meshed, his surroundings shifted into place.

‘How did I end up here?’ he thought to himself. The last thing he remembered was driving in his Porsche. Maybe he had drunken too much last night, and somebody had played a prank on him. It wasn’t out of the question with his friends. They were bored all the time, and some of them had a rough kind of humor.

‘But this… this wasn’t funny. Not funny at all.’

He crawled out of the cave and found himself on a narrow plateau overlooking a precipice. What he saw behind the verge turned his world upside down. The valley below him stretched for miles. A desert of lifeless stone and dust. Above him was no sky but a dome, held aloft by pillars of stone. A river of molten rock wound its path through the valley, casting a hazy red light.

‘It must be a dream,’ he thought, but in his heart, he knew it was a lie. He turned on his back and closed his eyes. A million questions flooded his mind.

‘Was he dead? Was this hell? What has happened to him? What will happen next?’

He laid there for a while, before he thought better of himself and stood up.

‘Adam Kemper is no man who lies in the dirt.’

He dusted off his blue Lacoste shirt and designer jeans and looked around. A narrow path was leading downhill. With careful steps, he started to walk. The decline was hard, and there were a few moments where he almost lost his footing. But soon the path became wider. And he saw other paths coming from other places, intertwining, and eventually becoming one path down to the valley below. On that path, he saw a person moving a couple of hundred feet before him on the path. He started running.

“Hello! Hey! Wait! Stop!” he shouted while closing the distance. The person turned out to be a woman. She was in her late 50s, dressed in a green hospital gown with a shaved head.

“Thank God. You are the first person I’ve met here. I… um… do you know where we are?” he stammered, suddenly unsure where to start.

“I think we are dead,” she answered with a soft and broken voice.
„Yes, I suppose so. But where are we?“

“Don’t know. But I think we’re going to find out when we move on.”

“Probably true. No point in standing around. Let’s walk together then?“

The woman agreed, and they started to walk together.

“I’m Adam, by the way. What’s your name?“

„Mary,“ she replied, managing a small smile.

„So… Do you know what happened to you?“

„Sure. Cancer happened. I was on the operating table. Probably didn’t make it.“

“Oh… sorry, that sucks.“

They walked in silence for a while.

„Do you think this is hell?“ he asked, trying to sound casual about it.

For a moment, she thought about it.

„No. Before, I was in a lot of pain. It’s all gone now. If there is a hell, it’s not the kind of place where they take away your pain.“

And she was right. After the initial sting back at the cave he had felt nothing, no pain. Also, no hunger or thirst. No sensation at all really. With every step, he felt more hollow.

„Why do you ask? Did you expect to end up in hell?“

Feeling a sudden need to justify himself, he replied,

„What? No! I mean… I’m a good person. Maybe no saint, but I come from a good family, I’m very successful… A good friend. I don’t think I deserve hell. It’s just this place. It feels so strange, you know.“

He was not quite sure who he was trying to convince but he chose to leave the matter unaddressed. While he was still talking, he noticed something in the distance. At first glance, it presented itself just as a flat, big mass without real form. Then he noticed movement. In fact, across the plain, an endless mass of people stretched along the shore of the lava river, waiting, sitting idly, or strolling with no apparent purpose. It was just like those pictures from Times Square you see in movies, but amplified to infinity. For a second time today, his world turned upside down.

‘So many people’, he tried to grasp the enormity of what he had seen. ‘Just standing there, waiting. For what? What is the point in all of this.’ A deep sense of dread overcame Adam, paired with bubbling anger, like something you cook slowly on the stove. He needed answers. And he needed them now.

Mary just continued to move forward and was soon swallowed by the crowd. For a fleeting moment, Adam entertained the fear of getting lost among all the other people. But he was determined and with newfound resolve, he plunged into the crowd, shoving people out of his way and cutting through the mass of people.

He observed some of the individuals. Most of them were just sitting around, but a few were chatting in hushed tones. Some wore pretty dresses or suits, some just hospital clothes, like Mary did. Some of the clothes looked as if they were from this century, but a lot of them looked even older, going as far back as the Middle Ages. He even saw one person with the armor of a Roman legionnaire.

He pushed on, uncertain of his destination. Out of the blue, there was a face that he recognized. His old friend Lonnie was just sitting nonchalantly on a big rock without a care in the world. He was dressed in an old Ramones shirt and simple blue jeans, like he used to wear. His hair was black and unkempt, but his eyes were kind. Paired with the same ‘I don’t give a fuck’ expression that Adam cherished him for. In life, Lonnie was his best friend in college, a so-so guitar player, and a wannabe rockstar. Despite never achieving great success, Lonnie embraced the rockstar lifestyle. He overdosed at 27, mirroring his idols.

Adam asked carefully, “Lonnie, is that you?”

Recognition flickered in Lonnie’s eyes.

“Adam, man, nice to see you. Well, maybe not for you. Being here means you bit the dust. Sucks for you. But hey, nice to see you, nonetheless. How long has it been?”

“Five Years.”

“Five Years! Thought it has been longer,” he chuckled to himself. “Well, we don’t really have watches down here. So, what happened?”

“I don’t really know,” Adam answered honestly.

“Then it must be something sudden. Like an aneurysm or some kind of accident. Otherwise, you would know.”

“Well, the last thing I remember is me driving…”

“See. I bet you kissed a tree with your pretentious sports car,” interjected Lonnie, smashing his fist into his palm with a loud clap.

Adam grinned. He really missed his friend and his direct demeanor. “But what is this place, Lonnie?”

“Good question! It seems the Greeks had it right all along. This here is the Underworld. Or more like the Lobby of the Underworld. And this lovely red glowing river is called Styx or Acheron. Depends on who you ask. And when you can pay the Ferryman, he brings you to the other side and you can move on. But these days, nobody can pay. We don’t really do the coin thing anymore.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Adam’s face was the definition of confusion.

“You know jack shit, do you? In the old days, when you died, they put a coin on your eyes or in your mouth. A tribute for Charon. He is the Ferryman. And he would cross you over to the other side. But we stopped doing that. So now we are stuck here, waiting. Not much else to do.”

“That’s ridiculous!” Disbelief colored Adam’s mind. “You’re telling me because nobody put a coin in my mouth when I died, I have to stand around in the muck with everybody else and do absolutely nothing?”

“That’s pretty much it, yeah. You, me, and everybody else here has to wait,” he answered gesturing at the masses of people.

“I can’t accept this.”

“But what can you do? I mean, you don’t have to stay here. Some people wander off. Try to find another way to cross! But who knows if they ever succeded. Your options are limited, and staying here is not so bad. You will see.”

But Adam didn’t want to see. He didn’t even listen anymore. Just the thought of staying here, waiting for all eternity made his head spin. It was inconceivable. Not living. Not enjoying all the pleasures he was accustomed to in life.

All doors were wide open for him, and he couldn’t comprehend that all the doors are now locked tight, making him a prisoner in purgatory.

“No! I can’t stay here. I have to talk to this Charon guy.”

“Like you are the first. They all come begging and bargaining. But if you insist, I can show you where to find him.” And with that, Lonnie jumped off his rock and led Adam through the crowd.

Carving through the crowd along the riverbank, they passed a sheer obscene amount of people. With each passing figure, the picture became more diverse. Some people sat together in small groups, some sat in pairs, and some were sitting alone. Some were smiling, laughing, or playing. Some were arguing or complaining. And some were just lost with emptiness behind their eyes. But Adam saw none of it. With every step, determination and anticipation surged in him. His focus was solely on talking to the ferryman.

After some time, a stone pier took shape in the distance. And on the side rested an immense rowing boat, crafted from dark wood, and it looked like it was carved from a single tree. And there he was, standing at the end of the boat like a statue. Larger than life, dressed in long grey robes. His face was covered by the shadow of his hood. Only his grey beard emerged from it, blending with the fabric. A pair of amber-colored eyes pierced the veil of darkness under his hood. Adam felt the eyes on him like heavy stones, and just for a moment, he lost all hope to convince this force of nature of anything. Like waving off a tsunami, just impossible.

Lonnie leaned over to his friend with a smug grin. “Pretty creepy, right. Still game?”

Adam hesitated. What should he even say to him? What did he want to say? He wasn’t quite sure. He didn’t want to be stuck here for all eternity. But more so, he wanted answers. No, he demanded answers. And usually, he got what he wanted. He took a deep breath.

“I have to. There is no other way.”

“Go on then. Maybe you’ll find what you’re looking for.”

Adam nodded and approached the ferry.

“Adam Kemper! My name is Charon. I’m the ferryman of the river Styx, tasked with the purpose of carrying the dead souls to the other side. At last, you stand before me like every soul did or will do in the time to come. Tell me, child, did you bring my tribute?” His voice was like his form, almost too much to grasp. It was rolling like thunder and at the same time just like a moan in the wind.

“No. I did not. But–“

“Then I’m afraid you have to wait with the others,” Charon interjected.

“But it’s not fair. I didn’t know I had to pay at the end of my life. Nobody knows. How could you make us wait here forever?” Adam knew he sounded like a child throwing a temper tantrum, but he couldn’t help it. It was just so infuriating.

“Nothing is forever, Adam Kemper. Not even here. Maybe there will be a time when the tribute is no longer needed. Things can change.”

Adam remembered the Roman legionnaire. “How long do we have to wait?”

“That, I don’t know. My duty is to enforce the rules. I take the tribute, and I ferry the souls across the river. I don’t make the rules. I don’t change the rules.”

“That’s not good enough. Who made these stupid rules? There must be something you can do.

“Humanity shaped these rules. You are all forging your world together. And in this world, the tribute is a symbol for life, its hardships and consequences. Everybody has to pay it to move on.”

“But I didn’t know. At home, I have all the money in the world. I would bring you a fortune if I could,” Adam cried out.

“I don’t need a fortune. It only matters that you pay me. To cross the river, a dead man pays a coin, and a living man pays a mistletoe. Those are your rules. And I’m just a humble servant, enforcing the rules, even when humankind doesn’t remember.”

With sudden realization, Adam looked up. “Living people come here?”

“Must be over a millennium since the last living person graced these shores, seeking passage. Mankind has forgotten the ways to this realm.”

“There is a connection between here and the land of the living then, right? If they can come here, I can go there?”

Charon thought for a second. “There is a connection, yes. And perhaps you can return. But it’s not an easy way. It will cost much pain and suffering, and even then, success isn’t guaranteed. Most don’t succeed.”

“I don’t care about the cost. Whatever it takes. Where do I have to go?”

“Follow the river back to its source, where the lava springs from the mountain. Ascend the mountain. Carry on, always forward, Adam Kemper, and you will find your way to the top,” Charon answered with pity in his voice.

But Adam didn’t notice the shift in tone. He knew what he had to do, and everything else was fading away.

“Thank you, Charon,” he said hastily and turned around. He walked back to Lonnie, who was still waiting at the shore.

“And? How did it go? No crisscrossing for you, it seems.”

Adam stopped and grabbed his friend by the shoulders. “I’ve got it figured out. I can save you. I can go back and bring all the coins in the world. I’ll save you and everyone else.” The spark of hope and obsession in Adam was growing into a blaze with every step.

“Go back? Adam, buddy. I don’t think that’s a good idea. Nobody knows what happens to the people that leave this place. There are dangers you can’t imagine.”

“I don’t care. I can’t stay. But I’ll be back, and then everything will be good.”

With the promise still hanging in the air, Adam left his friend behind in the crowd and followed the river to its source. Until this moment, time was pretty much meaningless. But with every step, a feeling of urgency took flame inside Adam. At first, just a flicker, like a candle illuminating a dark room. But fire consumes. And so did the fire in him. It consumed every whisper of doubt or hesitation. Every step took him further down the river, leaving everything and everyone behind. Time moved differently in this realm; even Adam noticed. It was slower, almost at a standstill. Everything in this realm had the essence of eternity in it. But his inner fire burned away this perception. His way was long, and Adam wouldn’t waste even a second.

The mountain was, like everything in this realm, a more fundamental version of everything Adam knew from Earth. To say the mountain was gigantic is like saying the center of our galaxy is far away. There is just no word that described the mountain and the feeling that Adam had when he arrived at its base. Everything in this realm was just so vast and so difficult to grasp. But Adam didn’t stop. One step after another, he followed a narrow path up the mountain. With every step, it became steeper. But he pushed on.

Eventually, the path became too steep to walk, and he started climbing a narrow precipice.

And with his climb, sensation came back. Fatigue came back. Pain came back.

Still, he pushed on.

The stone cut into his hand, and exhaustion threatened to make him lose his grip.

He pushed on.

He won’t give up. He never did. He won’t start now.

He ignored the tears running down his face, salty and burning.

He ignored his clothes torn to shreds by sharp-edged stone.

He ignored the blood coming from a thousand little cuts all over his body.

He just pushed on.

Time went on, and minutes became hours. Adam climbed without hesitation until he came to an obstacle. Just a few feet above him was another man, clinging to the side of the mountain. The man didn’t move an inch, and his desperation was like a smell, persistent and all-encompassing.

“Move. You’re blocking my path, and there is no way around,” Adam barked.

“I… ca..ca..can’t. it.. it’s just too much,” the man trembled like his voice.

Adam got angry. He couldn’t lose momentum, his mission was just too important. And this man was in his way. He didn’t have what it takes. The man hesitated, and that was his downfall.

“You have to move. You have to, or I’ll make you. It’s your choice.”

The man looked at Adam with fear written all over his face.

“I just can’t,” the fear was met with anger by Adam.

“Not good enough,” Adam said , and climbed until he was directly below the man.

“Last chance. Start moving or get out of my way.”

But the man wasn’t moving. Not an inch. Locked in place, like a part of the stone.

“This is your fault then!”

Adam’s words still lingered in the air as he seized the man’s leg. A swift pull, a long scream, and an even lengthier plunge into the abyss. The obstacle was removed, and Adam felt little remorse.

‘He couldn’t die again. Not here.’ he thought. ‘He was just too weak to do what needs to be done. His own fault.’

Leaving his thoughts behind, he pressed on, climbing further and further. Overcoming more obstacles, he never stopped again. He climbed until there was nowhere left to ascend.

With a final push, he reached the peak and immediately collapsed on the ground. Exhaustion and pain washed over him in a relentless wave. He wanted to scream, but only a fractured sound escaped. A cry for everything he left behind, every drop of blood spilled. It took a few moments before Adam could reclaim his resolve. Time for the final push.

Surveying the terrain, the space before him unfolded with a jagged surface revealing a cave on the opposing side. Larger than the cave he woke up in, much larger. And there was something else in this space. There were bones and viscera sprinkled around, like little piles of old clothes, left carelessly on the floor.

‘What could have left such bloody remains?’ That was the immediate question on Adam’s mind. And as if he had ordered an answer at a fast-food restaurant, a sound emanated from the cave. A howl unlike anything Adam had ever heard before. Primal and terrifying.

Adam closed his eyes and jumped into one of the piles. Hiding seemed the only sane choice of action. The bloody remains were sticky like tar, seeping through his clothes. Adam wanted to vomit but didn’t dare to move or even breathe.

A shadow emerged from the mouth of the cave, large and vicious. The sentinel of the underworld. Cerberus. Three heads foaming with bloody intent. His nostrils tried to pick up a scent. Without a doubt, Adam’s scent. The beast came closer, every step a small earthquake. Before long, it was standing next to the pile that Adam had chosen as a hiding spot.

Adam thought that this was the end of his path. How could he overcome this beast? The sudden realization that maybe he could die again, even when he was already dead, shook him. What does it even mean to die in a place like this? But there was no answer, just despair.

With a gust of wind, the three-headed beast blew away the pile of bones and revealed the cowering human underneath. Adam closed his eyes and accepted his fate. But nothing happened.

Slowly, he opened one eye.

Cerberus was crouching like a predator, low to the ground and all three heads were honed in on Adam. The eyes of the beast were searching for something, piercing his very essence. And it found what it was looking for. Adam felt some form of connection, something familiar between them, an understanding beyond words. Cerberus allowed Adam passage with a resounding howl. With careful steps, he entered the cave and reached the end of his journey.

The next thing Adam noticed was searing pain. Hot metal burning in his chest. A light behind his closed eyelids. There was a voice.

“We have a pulse. He is back.”

With every second, the world around him became a little sharper, a little bit more real.

He felt the pain in his body, broken bones, and ruptured skin.

He felt bloody clothes sticking to his body, torn and dirty.

He felt liquid in his mouth and tasted the copper on his tongue.

Part 2

With a quiet hum, the speaker on the side of the iron gate came to life.

“Yes, Ma’am. What can I do for you?”

“Stacy Kovacs. I’m here for Mr. Kemper. The interview.”

“Oh right. One moment, please.”

Stacy took a quick look in the rearview mirror. ‘Anything to fix up?’

No, her makeup was perfect, not too much. It looked very professional. Her clothes were new, and even her hair looked shiny. Everything was perfect for the new job. She was very proud that she could pull off a look like that. For months, she had been struggling; no job, student debt, no perspective, and a severe depression at 28. But then she got the call. A small news site had seen her blog and was willing to give her a chance, and a reason to trade in her PJs for a blouse, skirt, and shoes that whispered ’employment.’ Only the old leather jacket on the back seat and the Pontiac Sportscar, which has seen far better days, showed that she doesn’t belong in a fancy area like this. Both a reminder of herself and where she came from, something that gave her comfort.

With another hum, the big iron gate swung open. Stacy took a last look in the mirror and pushed her rust bucket of a car down the driveway. It came to a stop in front of a New England-style mansion. It was a clear spring day, and the mansion looked inviting, but for some reason Stacy was cold. A sharp gust of wind cut through her jacket on her way to the front door. There was a feeling in her stomach, something primal and urgent, a warning.

“Probably just nerves,” she mumbled to herself. She walked up to an imposing-looking wooden door, when a man in a classic black suit opened it.

“Miss Kovacs. Welcome. I am Henry, the butler for this estate. Follow me, please.”

He made an inviting gesture. The interior looked tasteful and classy, as only immense wealth can. The color palette of pastels was very soothing, but for Stacy’s taste, the house was lacking a bit of life, a bit of intensity. It was too clean to be true. In any case, it did not soothe her gut feeling. Henry guided her through the house to a big double door.

He knocked, and waited for a heartbeat, two heartbeats, three…

“Come in!”

He opened the door.

“Mr. Kemper. Your guest has arrived.”

“Thank you, Henry. Bring her in. Then you can start making the usual arrangements. After that, you can leave for the day.”

The voice that came from the room was strong and poignant.

“Do you want me to take your jacket, Miss Kovacs?”, asked Henry

“No, it’s fine. I’ll keep it with me if that’s okay.”

“Of course, suit yourself, Miss,” he said with a tone that was a little bit condescending. He turned around on his heel and departed. Stacy felt like watching a highly choreographed dance she didn’t know the steps to.

“Welcome to my humble abode, Miss Kovacs. Can I get you anything before we start? A drink, maybe, to calm the nerves?”

Adam Kemper looked at her with a winning smile. He was clean-cut in a dark grey suit and stylish black hair—the epitome of a Western businessman. His eyes were piercing blue and had something predatory, like an animal ready to pounce.

“No, thank you. I’m very delighted to make your acquaintance, Mr. Kemper. It’s not often that a man of your caliber agrees to an interview with a small news outlet like ours.”

She tried to sound eager and optimistic. The gig was unusual for a news outlet like the one she recently started working for. Even more unusual was the fact that a rookie like her was chosen for it.

“Well, it’s not really a surprise. Your news outlet is part of my company. But it’s not exactly public knowledge.”

Not what she was expecting.

“I did not know that. Isn’t this a problem? Our readers want authentic material—hard facts and truths. I won’t write a fluff piece. I simply can’t…”

“And I don’t want you to, Miss Kovacs,” he interrupted.

“I just want you to sit in this chair and give me a fair chance, yes?”

This development made her even more uncomfortable. Now she had to compromise between an engaging story that wouldn’t anger the readers and the hospitality of the man that could get her fired, and probably destroy her whole life if he wanted to. She took a deep breath.

“Of course, Mr. Kemper.”

“Please, you can call me Adam. Take a seat.”

Stacy sat down in a comfortable-looking chair in front of a clean-looking desk. Everything on the table was perfectly angled and aligned with the edge. He was a man in control, and it showed. He sat down in a dark leather office chair and suddenly Stacy realized that the desk was far more than a construct made of wood and glass. I was a chasm, dividing them in a way she couldn’t put into words.

Stacy took out her notepad trying not to let it show on her face.

“Okay, you can call me Stacy. Let’s see. Adam Kemper. 38 years old. CEO of Kemper Industries, one of the biggest steel providers in the country. Through your efforts, it also became one of the fastest-growing global players in finance, consumer electronics, and media. You present yourself to the world as a philanthropist, concerned with maintaining past history and culture.”

“Sounds about right,” he replied and smiled at her.

“In fact, you sit on top of one big empire and became one of the richest men in the country. And you accomplished all of it in the last five years.”

“Well, not really. I was rich before.”

“Yes, but prior to your accident, public perception painted you as a privileged rich playboy and nothing else.”

Stacy held her breath. Looking for his reaction to her first small jab.

“You mean my car accident. Yes, it gave me a new perspective on life. Before that, I didn’t know what was important. But it showed me that everything has consequences and in the end, we all have to pay our due.”

He didn’t seem to be angered by the question. Maybe she could push a little further, and get a reaction.

“What you’re saying is you have much to pay for, and that is the reason for the aggressive expansion of your company in the last five years?”

“No. I believe in the end; we all have to pay the same price. But I am in a unique position and can help others pay their share. But helping everybody doesn’t come cheap. That means the more I earn and the more success I have, the more I can give back to the community.”

“This means you believe in trickle-down economics. Nothing unusual for a man in your position, even when studies debunked the concept long ago. But what does your company really do to help solve current problems? What exactly do you mean by investing into the community?”

Stacy noticed Adam’s eyes began to gleam. She was on the right track.

“Well, we are one of the biggest providers of work globally. We also invest substantially in infrastructure with contracts spanning the globe to build housing and transportation in low-income places. Maybe it’s not as flashy as some endeavors. But I like to think globally and help everyone in the world. And on a global stage, slow and steady wins the race. Besides that, you already mentioned my social engagement.”

“Yes, and I want to come back to your philanthropic efforts. But first, nothing that your company did in the last five years seems slow and steady. Insiders speak of a storm, driven by a man with a divine directive.”

He laughed out loud.

“Ha. Isn’t that a bit much?”

“Perhaps it is. Not my words. I saw them on the cover of a magazine. But you see yourself as a man of focus, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Yes. Very much so. And you were spot-on. I was a superficial, privileged rich kid. But the accident changed all that. It showed me how stuck I was in a destructive way of life and I had to change. I wanted to do something more with my life. Something more profound. Something nobody else could do.”

“Studies show that many of your workers are underpaid and many of your products have significant negative impacts on the environment. What is it that you can do that nobody else can?”

“As I mentioned, we’re overseeing numerous projects. I’m in a position to help more people with food, shelter, and education than anyone else. And it’s crucial that my workers are paid fairly according to local regulations. But it is also important to me to help as many people as possible. That means some sacrifices are necessary in the face of the quantity of people that are in need. And we have to start somewhere. My assistant can provide a detailed overview of our humanitarian efforts and the impact they have on the world. There is one particular project I’d like to share with you, but that can wait. First, do you have more questions?”

Stacy heard the typical platitudes rich people use when they present themselves as the good guy.

“Yes. You mentioned your social efforts before. You are very big on maintaining our cultural heritage. There were a few big donations to museums and universities in the field of archaeology and anthropology.”

“It’s something that is very dear to me,” he interrupted her again.

“But are you aware that many people think it’s just a rich man’s hobby and you should focus on bigger issues in the world? Climate change, the wealth gap, or all the wars, fought in large parts with your steel. All future problems, and yet you look to the past instead. Don’t you think it’s your responsibility to address these problems?”

An awkward pause stretched out between them. Stacy’s thoughts raced.’Shit, that was too harsh now, wasn’t it? Fuck, I blew it.’

But a new sound cut through the silence, and cut through her thoughts, wielding the surprise of the moment. Another speaker, this time on Adam Kemper´s desk, came alive with Henry´s dissonant voice.

“I made all the arrangements, Sir.”

“Thank you, Henry. You can go now. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He looked back at Stacy, shaking his head to regain focus.

“Our company does plenty for climate change and world security. We tackle future problems. If we didn’t, we would not be as successful. Maybe not me personally, but I have people for that. And I enable them to find solutions for all the world’s problems. But my heart hangs on cultures past. And I believe that we can learn much from the ways of our ancestors. By understanding our roots, maybe we find a better way for the future. One where we don’t get stuck all the time. But for that, we have to keep our culture alive. We have to defend it from the decaying influences that undermine our culture and traditions and let people forget what’s important.”

“But given the state of the world today, many are concerned that there won’t be much space for cultural heritage left in the future.”

“I refuse to believe that. Humanity will prevail. And I have a project that I would like to show you. Something that will help many people in the long run. A passion project, if you like.”

The joyful enthusiasm from before changed into cold conviction and Stacy had the sudden feeling something important was about to happen.

He stood up from his chair and walked to the door.

“Follow me, please.”

Stacy was a little overwhelmed by the situation. The shift in tone was not a welcome one, and she didn’t like where the interview was going. She could not quite put her finger on it, but she was convinced that things had taken a bad turn. He would probably soon kick her out and then make a call to her boss. Then she would lose her job, and things would go back to the bad old days.

Absentmindedly she asked, “Do I need my jacket?”

“No, you can leave it. It’s not far.”

Stacy left her old leather jacket behind on the chair and followed Adam Kemper through the hallway, down the stairs to an opulent door in the basement area of the house.

On his way, he asked, “Did you know that I have the biggest collection of antique coins in the whole world?”

“I did not know that, very interesting.”

But in her head, she thought, ‘Coins, really? Is there a more boring hobby? Wait, is he coming on to me? Shit. I hope not…. What do I do?’ Stacy felt like a rabbit caught in the headlights.

“I get them from all parts of the world. But see for yourself.”

He opened the door and stepped aside to make room for her in the doorway. Indeed, there was an impressive number of coins, a noisy picture of silver and copper with specks of gold. Coin after coin hung on the wall, like little suns behind glass. Even more coins in drawers, chests, or just lying on a table in the corner. There was even one of those stone coins that some old cultures used. As big as a cartwheel and weighing probably a ton.

‘Okay, that is impressive.’

That was the last thought before she felt a little pinch on her neck. And the symphony of copper and silver and gold dissolved into a cacophony of black.

She was afraid when she came to, bound to a chair, back in the center of a world of copper and silver and gold.

She was terrified when he explained that her sacrifice would save millions of people, save them from a fate worse than death.

She was in pain when Adam Kemper violently stuck a funnel down her throat and fed her coin after coin until she could take no more.

And she died with the taste of copper on her tongue.