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The old man was dying. Had been for the last couple of years but now, finally, was the time beyond which life could not be prolonged by any means whatsoever.

Joseph Parker had been summoned to his room. He was thirty-one, married for two years, with two children on the way. The old man would leave him a legacy few would even dare dream of.

And that was precisely what he feared.

He knew what the old man – his father, biologically speaking – was like. And he did not want to be like him. If – not, not if – ONCE he assumed the position of Chairman he would change things. Oh yes. He and Catherine had plans for The Centre. They would turn it into something people would feel proud of.

It would be easy to accomplish all this once the old man was out of the way. He considered his life father's life to be an impediment to changes. He didn’t enjoy having such thoughts about the man, despite everything had done, but it was true.

He arrived at the Nursery Level – mostly referred to as 'Renewal Wing' and headed to an isolated area at the end of the hallway. This was one of the main reasons – if not the main – why he didn’t enjoy visiting his father. In order to reach the room where his father was staying, he had to walk past the gurneys where the other inmates were. Looking at the patients; seeing their faces, knowing most of them had been involuntary test subjects with no hope of regaining their sanity, much less their freedom; would made him dread his father even more, but it would also increased his determination to continue.

The ones who were already here were beyond salvation; however, he could do something to prevent it from happening again.

Joseph reached the curtain that separated the main hallway from a more secluded area, continued past it to the only occupied room there. He entered the room and found Martin Lemming, his father's lawyer and personal assistance, waiting near the bed.

"Hello, Martin," he said, more out of common courtesy than of sympathy.

Martin's response was a mere nod. He didn’t speak much, unless it was absolutely necessary. And he wasn’t hypocrite enough to feign sympathy for people he disliked, such as the son of his employer. Martin Lemming could be the Devil's advocate, but he was honest enough to admit it. He allowed people to know that; in fact, he made sure they knew that.

"How's he?"

The question was much more rhetorical than pertinent for they both knew that the man lying on the bed wouldn’t last longer.

"Sleeping," was all Martin said and it was more than enough.

Joseph walked closer to the bed and stared at his father's wrinkled face for the first time in a long time. He didn’t dare touching him. For one thing, he and his father were not exactly close; and two, he was afraid any contact – little as it could be – could somehow bring his father back to life.

For the sake of his plans, he just stood near the bed and watched his father breathing. Each breath was a step closer to the end.

"He wanted me to give you this," Martin said, producing an envelope from the inside pocket of his coat. "Read it carefully."

Joseph took the envelope. "What's in it?"

"You'll find out once you read it." Whether Martin knew the content of the envelope, he kept that information to himself. "Here's what I can tell you right now: as you know, your father will be leaving you his position at The Centre as your inheritance. However, that position can only be assumed once you fulfill the request presented on that envelope."

"I thought you didn’t know what's inside the envelope."

"Not to its full extent, I don’t."

"I see. So, what requests are those?"

Martin almost smiled, almost, as if anxious to be asked that question. "When is Catherine due?"

Joseph noticed the tone, the glint in his eyes, and he did not like it one bit. "Less than three months," he said.

"That's all the time you need to do as requested."

Joseph felt uncomfortable with that final comment. He decided to end the visit there.

"It was a pleasure seeing you, Martin."

"The pleasure was all mine."

Both men smiled as they shook hands; a big smile, business men like. Each one thinking the other was going to screw him, none admitting it.

------//-----

At seven thirty pm, thirty minutes later than usual, Joseph arrived home. His wife was probably in the kitchen chatting with the maid while she cooked dinner. He sniffed. 'Meat loaf. Hmmm!' He took off his coat and put it on the hanger.

"Honey, I'm home," he announced.

He went to the kitchen and found both women giggling. Catherine was sitting at the kitchen table, while Betsy peeled off some potatoes. His sudden arrival apparently only made them chuckle some more.

"Were you two talking about me?"

His wife smiled. "Why should we?"

Joseph pretended to be hurt, turned to the maid and said. "Betsy, if you love your husband, never get yourself pregnant. You'll lead him to insanity."

"That's your fault too, mister," his wife said.

Joseph went to her and planted a kiss on her lips.

"I missed you," she said.

He looked into her eyes and smiled like he always did. This time, however, it wasn’t his regular smile. Sensing something was wrong, she was just about to ask when he shook his head. Whatever it was, he did not want to discuss it in front of Betsy.

"Let's go to the living room."

He helped her get up and took her arm. They left the kitchen and went to the living room. Catherine sat on the sofa while Joseph went to the mini-bar and prepared a brandy for his enjoyment. Adding one rock of ice to his drink, he walked to the sofa and grabbed his wife's hand gently.

"How was it?" she asked, determined to find out what was wrong with him.

"You know how these things are." He took a sip from his drink. "Nothing more than formalities. Thank God it's over."

"Are you all right?"

"Fine. It's just… He's my father, Catherine. And I can't stop wanting him to die. I'm afraid."

She leaned her head on his shoulder. "Of what?"

"Of becoming him."

She smiled and her smile brought him some comfort. "Don’t worry. You're a good man. You'll never be like your father."

"For now. But who knows the future? I'm about to assume control of one of the most powerful companies in the entire world. It's a power few men would dare dream, much less achieve." He paused. "You know what they say about absolute power."

"Only God has absolute power."

"Yes, but take a look around you. It doesn’t seem to me like He's been doing his best lately."

"Well, if you're so worried, perhaps you shouldn’t take it."

"No, I have to take it. If we want to make a difference, we have to do this."

"Even if it costs your soul?"

"Sometimes we have to make sacrifices." He took another sip. "I didn’t know much about my father when he was a young man, but I believe he was different. I think it is the job that changes us, corrupts us. It happened to my grandfather, it happened to my father, but it won't happen to me."

"What makes you so sure of that?"

"They didn’t have you by their side."

"Oh, I'm flattered…"

"You and I both know what happened in Carthis. Maybe it's true, maybe I can't escape the curse but I have to try; if not for me, at least for my family."

------//-----

The rest of the evening went on as normal: a quiet dinner followed by a few hours at the sofa, talking and watching 'I Love Lucy'. I felt good to laugh. They needed it to remind themselves that there are still some good left in the world; that every problem has a solution or, at least, a way to be eased.

Lying on the sofa, with his pregnant wife on his arms, Joseph made his best to fake enjoyment for Lucy and Ricky's antics. His mind was somewhere else, thinking about Martin Lemming and that cryptic comment. That's all the time you need to do as requested. It frightened him, made him unsure of what he was determined to do. He wanted to change The Centre, he wanted to make a difference, and he was willing to sacrifice his life, his very soul, in order to achieve it.

Now, after spending some time with his wife and talking to her about the day's events, he realized once more how important she was to him, and was beginning to believe the sacrifice he would have to make would be far more painful than sacrificing his life or his soul. It would be ultimate sacrifice, he knew, still ignoring if such suppositions were true. He suspected everything would be clear once he read the letter Martin Lemming had given him.

Deciding to postpone the inevitable, he kissed his wife and told her how much he loved her, all the while thinking about what laid ahead.