The Two Endersons - 1. To Hold The Future

Brad Calloway stared down at his seated client. "I have to say Enderson, as your attorney, I have heard you make some outlandish statements, but this one – this one caps them all."

Enderson Tate rolled his chair back from his mahogany desk and moved to the bar at the back of his office. He glanced at his lawyer briefly before turning to add ice cubes to his glass. "Should I remind you of your contract with me?"

"I am aware of our contract, but this goes far beyond what the law allows…"

The man in the wheel chair laughed. "And when did the law become a concern to you, Calloway? Need I recount a few past maneuvers by you on my behalf?"

"No." The other man paused briefly. "Alright, so do you have ideas on where I am to find this surrogate? And what of medical issues?"

"I've already spoken to Kemp; the doctor is aware of my plans and is prepared to carry out his part." He splashed bourbon into his glass and took a long sip. "As for the other, use your brain. Just make sure you find someone in good health – no drug use. I need a healthy vessel."

"But why this? Why not just donate sperm and …"

Enderson cut him off. "You know that is impossible. The accident didn't just take my legs."

"But what about Michael? Surely your son is able."

"It's enough I will need to depend on him to raise the child. He and his boytoy are not going to be that excited about being … fathers." He took another strong gulp. "That much is certain. And I'm not looking for just an heir."

"How do you know this will even work?"

"I've done my research. And so has Kemp. Cloning is not that far-fetched an idea these days. It will be common place soon enough – I'm just ahead of the curve. A place I have grown quite comfortable." He refilled his glass before moving back to his desk. "If I am going to leave my legacy to that half-man I call my son, it will only be until I can get a suitable replacement prepared. And I am the best candidate for the job."

"I hope you know what you're doing."

Enderson's steel-blue eyes became hooded as a cold smile curled his lips. "You just do your job and let me worry about the big picture. If everyone will just do what they've been told to do, this will be a success – just like any other 'Tate International' venture."

"You're the boss, Enderson."

"Nice of you to remember that. Now – get me a surrogate."

Enderson waited until Brad left his office before reaching down to the bottom drawer on the left and withdrawing a book with a faded and tattered cover. The lettering on the cover had originally been inlaid with some type of green leaf-like material. Though most of the inlay was faded or missing completely, the title was still clear to read: Psychic Transference.

He gently opened the book to where he had placed a book mark, cursing silently as the brittle pages flaked off at the edge. Finding the book was a stroke of sheer luck and he was determined not to lose it regardless of its age. He glanced up to verify his door was securely closed before he began to read:

"The main key in transference is continuity between the controller and subject. The more comfortable the subject is greatly enhances their subjectivity to receiving. Sharing likes and dislikes with the controller will broaden the scope of control available. Indeed, the more their personalities intertwine, the easier it becomes to transmit ideas, philosophies, indeed, human nature itself."

Enderson leaned back and took a long, slow sip of his bourbon, his mind deep in satisfactory thought. If I need someone of 'similar nature and demeanor', what could be better than transferring to another me? Even better, if I can learn transmutation and substitution the way the book describes it – I can claim my younger self and extend my life. Perhaps skirt around death all together. The man gave a hearty laugh, his eyes shining like shards of ice.

The process of harvesting surrogate eggs and fertilizing with living donor tissue to result in a viable embryo was a time-consuming process. Patience was not a strong suit for Enderson Tate. After four months of trial and error, Enderson's volatile temper caused him to terminate one surrogate life and find a second. He was about to find a third when he received a hopeful visit from Doctor Kemp.

"You are sure of this?" Enderson demanded.

Doctor Kemp stood before his employer, lightly blotting sweat from his forehead. "The results are positive and certain, Mr. Tate. Your surrogate is pregnant with a four-month old viable fetus. Although there can still be complications, they are no different than what you would find in a more normal pregnancy."

"You verified it is my child."

"Yes sir."

"So I am to have my son."

"I can see no reason why not at this stage, sir."

"Let us hope all continues well. Ensure she stays comfortable and healthy. I want no failure at this point."

"Of course, Mr. Tate. As you command."

"Excellent. Thank you, Doctor Kemp. You can return to your duties."

Enderson watched the doctor leave before turning to Brad Calloway. "Keep an eye on things, Calloway. Whatever she needs, make sure it is available to her."

"Of course, Enderson. I'll keep you advised."

"See that you do." The man waved off the attorney and leaned back in his wheel chair. His hooded eyes glinted like ice as he finished off his usual glass of bourbon before leaning forward and pressing the call button beside the phone.

Moments later his butler stepped into the room. "Yes, Mr. Tate?"

"Tell Mrs. Everly I intend to have my son and his husband here for dinner Sunday evening. I wish something elegant prepared."

"Right away, sir." The man disappeared back into the hall, closing the office door behind him.

Enderson lifted the receiver to his phone and punched in his son's number. It took very little convincing to get his son to agree to the meeting the following Sunday.

- - - - -

Sunday evening Enderson's son and partner arrived promptly for drinks before dinner. Conversation was casual and somewhat void of purpose, understandable since the elder Tate never discussed anything during drinks but held serious conversations over the evening meal.

After taking time to simply enjoy the prepared meal, Enderson looked across the table at his son and son-in-law. It had taken him months to become accustomed to their marriage, indeed just accepting his son's sexuality had been a major undertaking. "It's good of you to come to dinner; it has been too long."

"We appreciate the invitation, Father," Michael Tate replied. "I know this hasn't been easy for you."

"Perhaps not, but you are my son, and nothing will change that. Your mother would have been much quicker to accept, I'm sure."

His son nodded in agreement. His mother, Louise Tate, had succumbed to cancer when he was fourteen. Even now, at twenty-eight, he still felt a void in his life where his mother had been.

"I'm sorry I never had the chance to meet Mrs. Tate," Byron replied. Four years his partner's junior, he had the innate look of one barely out of his teens. Try as he might to feel comfortable around his husband's father, he always felt like walking on egg shells in any exchange with the senior Tate. "Michael has spoken of her a lot; she must have been a remarkable woman."

"She was," Enderson replied. "A perfect foil for my strong will and demanding nature – she was instrumental in softening my spoken viewpoint." He took a sip of his wine. "But on to other topics; there is a matter we need to discuss."

"I had a feeling something specific was on your mind."

"My invitation was not simply to discuss an issue; I did miss seeing you."

"I know, Father – it's just there always seems to be something on your mind."

Enderson chuckled good-naturedly. "Fair enough. And most likely true."

"So what is on your mind tonight?"

"A grandson."

Michael dropped his fork clattering onto his plate. He looked at Byron, then back at his father. "We have discussed adopting a child, I just don't think we're ready yet."

"You've been married a couple of years now, Michael. What's the delay?" He glanced at the plates on the table, then rang a small bell near his water glass.

The butler stepped out of the kitchen, "Yes, Mr. Tate?"

"You may serve dessert, Carlson."

"Right away, sir." The man stepped back into the kitchen.

Enderson looked back at his son. "You are both healthy, well employed, why are you not producing an heir – to the extent you can 'produce' one."

"We are both busy with work, Father. I don't want a child that must be raised by a nanny, never seeing its parents."

"And you, Byron – you feel the same?"

"In truth, sir, we were discussing a family just the other night. We both wish to have a child or two, though I may be more eager than Michael."

"So my son is the hold-out?"

"I understand his reasons for waiting and have no problem with holding off for now."

"Well I don't. But then, I have a more urgent desire than the two of you, I'm sure."

Carlson stepped out of the kitchen with a tray to serve three dishes of warm salted caramel pie, each topped with a generous scoop of French vanilla ice cream. He looked at the three at the table. "Shall I bring coffee?"

Enderson replied, "Yes, Carlson, do."

The butler nodded and stepped back into the kitchen, returning with a silver coffee pot which he used to fill the cup at each man's setting.

The men were silent until Carlson returned to the kitchen and Michael leaned forward slightly.

"Father, are you ill?"

"What? No, of course not. Why would you ask such a question?"

"You said your reason was urgent."

Enderson lifted his coffee and took a sip before starting in on his dessert. "I am quite well, but there is still a need to not delay in deciding to adopt."

"Then what is it?"

The elder Tate set his fork down and steepled his fingers, gazing over them at both the other men. "I am in rather a strange predicament."

"Go on, please."

It seems I have gotten a young lady pregnant."