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something more. Real
name. The name used by people who knew the truth about you. Soon he
would need to choose a name for himself. A name that would follow
him through eternity, persisting in world after world, one known to
the others like him.
    “Which way did the strangers go when they
left?”
    The man shrugged. “I didn't walk them to the
end of the village.”
    Cazzel placed the knob on the end of his
walking stick, hiding his weapon once more. “You don't have to
worry that I will eat the food of your village without working in
return. I am leaving tonight to follow those strangers.”
    “Are they your friends?” the cripple
asked.
    “I'll figure that out when I meet them.”
     
     

Chapter 6 – Hess / Iteration 145
    He fired Gwen
Furman after setting her up to fail on what should have been a
simple project. Her disgraceful exit from TFK Motors made it
unlikely anyone would ever take her claims about him seriously. Not
long after he took care of Gwen, the company president gave him a
promotion to vice president of logistics, a title created
specifically for him.
    Hess suspected the promotion had less to do
with his performance than it did with the fact that he was a member
of the same Church congregation as most of TFK Motor's executives.
Dating Elza had benefits as well. As Theora Winfield, she had an
uncle who was a judge presiding over Customs violation cases in TFK
Motor's jurisdiction and a cousin on the board of Jones Automotive,
their biggest customer. Also, Theora's father lived a life of
leisure, on occasion attending charity events with important
people.
    Elza's trust fund managed to make the wealth
Hess had at his disposal appear laughable in comparison. The two of
them rarely had access to so much money. Usually they lived as
migrant workers in the worlds, drifting from place to place, taking
odd jobs and going where whimsy led them. Those were his favorite
times, when they lived by their wits and never knew what would
happen next. In comparison, the steady grind of regular life wore
on him.
    As he had for the past two months, Hess left
work early. He had decided that since his performance had far less
of an impact on his job than the quality of his connections, there
was little incentive to put forth effort.
    The logistics department essentially ran
itself, anyway. Connections ensured that the Church continued to
use TFK Motors to warehouse and ship its weapons. Connections
prevented any problems with Customs. Connections kept the people on
top where they wanted to be. Meanwhile, those without connections
worked their asses off to feed their families.
    Hess reflected on the mess of a world he
inhabited as he drove home. A world he had created, however
indirectly. Why, he wondered, do I create such
worlds? When the consciousnesses of the twelve Observers merged
to form the Creator, was equal weight given to Erik's desire to
inflict pain as to Hess's opinions on how the world could be
improved to benefit the people? Did the Creator engineer misery
into His blueprints?
    If that was the case, then maybe the religion
of Deispite had a point. Maybe the Creator was evil. Hess
ground his teeth. Could everything wrong with the succession of
sorry worlds be placed at the feet of a twisted Observer's
obsession with spite and hatred?
    Erik had tormented him the previous
Iteration. Threatened to hunt him through eternity. Two Iterations
ago, Ingrid had led the group of Observers that buried him and Elza
alive, leaving them to beat their fists against the insides of
stone sarcophagi for centuries.
    The other Observers were a problem for more
than just him. Their apathy and self-righteous hatred tainted every
world they created, bringing billions of individuals into lives
purposefully filled with pain. For that, they deserved the hatred
directed at them by the Church of Opposition.
    When he arrived home, Hess began preparing an
elaborate meal. He removed a flank steak from a vinegar-based
marinade he had improvised