Transcendence - 7 (Patreon)

6.5

Morning light filtered through the curtains as Randy stirred awake. The other side of the bed was empty, the sheets and covers undisturbed, a stark contrast to his own tousled side. A sense of unease began to gnaw at him as he sat up, trying to piece together the events of the previous night.

He vaguely remembered Beth getting up, her voice a soft murmur about meeting someone. But surely, she had come back to bed? The lingering effects of last night's drinks clouded his memory.

Reaching for his phone, he quickly texted Beth: “Good morning, you okay?” There was no immediate response. He waited, watching the screen, but still nothing. He called her number, but it just went to voice mail. "This is Dr. Elizabeth Simpson. I'm not available at the moment but please dial 555-427-6787 and someone will get with you as soon as possible."

He glanced at the time. Her session was supposed to start in an hour. He'd overslept, but usually Beth would wake him up.

Randy opened the 'Find My Friends' app, hoping to see her location. His heart sank when he realized she wasn't appearing on the app. His worry intensified. This wasn’t like Beth not to come back or at least let him know where she was.

He got out of bed, a sense of urgency propelling him. He checked the bathroom, then the rest of their hotel room, but there was no sign of her. Her personal belongings were still there – her purse, her conference badge, her phone charger – but of Beth, there was no trace.

Randy got dressed, his mind racing with possibilities, none of them comforting. He tried to recall any detail from the previous night that might give him a clue, but the memories were frustratingly fuzzy.

He decided to check the hotel lobby and ask the front desk if they had seen her. As he quickly dressed, a growing sense of dread filled him. Where could she be? Why hadn’t she returned? The questions multiplied with each passing minute, and with them, a growing fear for her safety.

Beth’s uncharacteristic disappearance, coupled with the tensions and mysterious events surrounding the conference, painted a troubling picture. Randy knew he had to act fast; he needed to find Beth, and he needed to do it now.

6.6

Walking quickly, he went to the dining room first. He scanned all the tables but didn't see her at any of them. He grabbed an orange, and peeled it absently as he stood looking for her, feeling both foolish, worried, and nervous at the same time.

Randy decided to widen his search. He checked the hotel lobby, and out to the garden. But there was no sign of her.

Randy quickened his pace through the hotel, his mind racing with worry. He clung to the hope that Beth, ever the professional, would never miss her own lecture series without a very good reason. As he approached the conference room where Beth was scheduled to present, his heart was pounding in his chest.

The scene that greeted him was not what he expected. The room, which should have been buzzing with activity and filled with attendees, was eerily quiet. Staff were disassembling the setup, and a sign reading 'Cancelled' hung over Beth's placard. A sinking feeling took hold of him.

He approached one of the staff members. "Excuse me, do you know why Dr. Simpson's lecture was canceled?" he asked, trying to keep the panic out of his voice.

The staff member shrugged. "No idea, sir. We just got orders to take everything down."

Randy felt a surge of frustration and fear. This wasn't like Beth at all. Something was seriously wrong. He pulled out his phone, trying her number again, but again it went straight to voicemail. "This is Dr. Elizabeth Simpson. I'm not available at the moment but please dial 555-427-6787 and someone will get with you as soon as possible."

Something about that statement rang alarm bells in his mind. "Hey babe, really getting worried here. Where are you? Why is your presentation being taken down? Did I do something wrong? Please call me back; I'm worried."

During their years together, they'd fought, of course. Randy had the mentality that 'never going to bed angry,' and sometimes they'd hash things out long into the night. Sometimes, they went to bed angry, but at least they both felt listened to and that their point of view had been communicated. She'd even had that one time in New Mexico, where she'd left for a few days due to his dumbass getting drunk and driving home at three in the morning. She hadn't been mad about the drinking, but the driving was something else. "If you'd crashed into a family or some other innocent person, how the fuck would I feel then?" He'd sworn off alcohol for a while after that and never drove after drinking.

He wasn't supposed to drink at all, and he had the night before, but it was only a couple of beers…

Damn, he scratched his head, wandering the halls of the hotel. Had she left because of that?

He dialed Kim, Beth's veterinary assistant. "How's Boston?" she answered on the second call.

"Kim, have you heard anything from Beth?" Randy said, heart pounding.

"Um, no?" she paused. "I mean, she called me yesterday to ask about some files on EquiGen, which I sent her in email last night, but other than that, I haven't heard anything. Why?"

"Can you send me those files?" Randy said.

"I suppose?" Kim was everything professional. "I mean, they were just some research notes, etc. Stuff I pulled from the internet. Why, what's going on?"

Randy sighed, putting his hand to his head. "Look, if she checks in or calls, please tell her to call me right away, okay?"

"Sure thing Mr. Simpson—"

Randy disconnected the call as Kim was still speaking.

His mind was a whirlwind of worst-case scenarios. He thought about the previous night – Beth's cryptic exit, the tensions with EquiGen, Alex's mysterious disappearance. It all felt connected, a puzzle with pieces he couldn't quite fit together.

He walked down the hallway and got into the elevator. A young couple got in behind him, with conference badges hanging from lanyards around their neck. They both nodded at him. The couple held hands. Randy clenched his fist and then shook his head, forcing himself to look up at the numbers as they went down in the elevator.

With each passing minute, his worry turned to outright fear. He knew he had to escalate the situation. It was time to involve hotel security and the police. Beth was missing, and every instinct told him that this was more than just a simple misunderstanding.

As he hurried back to the front desk, his mind was filled with images of Beth – her smile, her passion, her unwavering sense of justice. He couldn't lose her, not like this. The thought propelled him forward, his steps fueled by a mix of love and desperation. The search for Beth was now a race against time, and Randy was determined to find her, no matter what it took.

6.7

"Thank you for coming to the Bostonian Regal Hotel!" the front desk clerk said in a bubbly voice. She had a cherubic face set off with short chin-length hair. Her name tag said : Angie. "How can I serve you today?"

"Um, my name is Randy Simpson and my wife Beth Simpson left our hotel room last night and she hasn't returned."

"Oh dear!" she picked up the phone. "That must be very distressing; let me get hotel security."

She chatted for a few moments, and hung up. "If you have a seat in the lounge there, security will come to you."

Randy nodded and went to wait.

Damn, he shouldn't have drank last night. If Beth had said anything, and they'd actually shared some wine the night before…ugh. He'd been slipping and the conference had him slipping even more. If she didn't want him drinking she should have said—

She shouldn't have to say, you idiot.

Randy sighed, wanting to hit his forehead. He really hoped he hadn't screwed the pooch by drinking. He inhaled, trying to calm himself, then paced back and forth as some uniformed men approached him.

"Dr. Simpson?" The first security guy said. "I'm Neil Washington, the head of security. I was told your wife is missing?"

"Mr. Simpson," Randy said. "Dr. Simpson is my wife Beth and yes she's missing."

The man nodded. "When was the last time you spoke with her?"

Randy rubbed a hand through his hair. "Last night?" He frowned. "Around…I dunno, eleven o'clock?"

"Did she give you any indication of where she might be going?"

"No, we were in our hotel room and she said she had to go meet someone about EquiGen."

"EquiGen, the company?" the second man said. He was dressed in a similar jacket and 'Anthony' was written on his nametag.

"Yes." Randy sighed. "Beth was…well, she suspected something was going on with that company."

"I see," Neil said. "Did you two have a fight or anything?"

Randy shook his head. "No, everything was fine. Do you think we should call the police?"

"Let's take a look at the cameras first," Neil said. "Follow me."

Randy had a bad feeling. If Beth had been taken by Equigen or people who worked for EquiGen, Randy would be a loose end that would need to be tied up. If he followed this man, there could be someone lurking and waiting to grab Randy. But at least he'd know what happened to Beth, and they could work together to find a way out.

He nodded, following the two security personnel.

6.8

In a small room at the back of the hotel, they stared at the footage outside of Randy and Beth's room, but after hours of looking at different hallways, nothing came up. No one ever left the room, or it appeared that way at least.

Of course, with the resources EquiGen had, doctoring a security tape would be child's play.

"I don't know what to tell you, Randy." Neil Washington said. "I don't doubt your account of the evening, but you did say you had been drinking…could she have left earlier?"

Randy shook his head.

"Well, I encourage you to get ahold of the police," Neil said. "Should we call them?"

"Yes, please."

Neil picked up the phone.

6.9

After spending the day relating events to the police, contacting every authority and figure he could think of, Randy felt the weight of despair settling in. His heart ached with worry and helplessness.

In a last-ditch effort, he wandered back to the gallery, scanning the faces of attendees and hoping against hope that Beth might appear. But she was nowhere to be seen. With a heavy heart, he found himself near the EquiGen booths, almost mechanically observing the horses on display.

It was then that he noticed the two new additions to the EquiGen exhibit: Sir Archibald Noble Sterling, a chestnut Thoroughbred stallion, and Meadow's Grace, a Hanoverian mare. Something about the mare caught his attention, and he felt an inexplicable urge to take a closer look.

As he approached the Mare snuffled and whinnied, trembling. She tried to rear a couple of times, but fell back on her hobbled hooves.

He paused, his heart catching in his throat as he took in her appearance. She was a magnificent creature, her coat a glossy chestnut that shimmered under the stable lights, muscles rippling gracefully under her skin with each movement. Her mane fell in soft waves, framing expressive eyes that flickered with a nervous energy.

Randy's eyes were drawn to the hobbling on her forelegs, a stark reminder of her confinement. Despite this, Meadow's Grace shifted her weight from left to right, a subtle but familiar gesture that struck a chord in Randy's heart. It was a motion so characteristic of Beth, a nervous habit she had when feeling anxious or unsure.

He watched, his breath held, as Meadow's Grace seemed to become aware of his presence. She let out a soft nicker, a sound that seemed almost imploring, as if trying to communicate something beyond her equine capabilities. Randy felt a surge of emotion, a mix of hope and heartache, as he began to recognize the essence of his wife in the mare before him.

The mare's eyes met his, and for a moment, Randy saw something beyond the animal gaze – a flicker of recognition, a hint of the familiar. It was as though Beth was looking out at him, trapped within this majestic yet alien form. The realization hit him with a wave of sorrow and disbelief, yet there was an undeniable connection that transcended her transformation. In those eyes, he found the remnants of his wife, reaching out to him in silent acknowledgment.

He read her registration papers:

• Name: Meadow's Grace
• Breed: Hanoverian
• Color: Chestnut
• Date of Birth: April 22, 2020
• Sire: Royal Guardian (Listed for registration purposes; actual lineage may vary)
• Dam: Autumn's Whisper (Listed for registration purposes; actual lineage may vary)
• Breeder: EquiGen Genetics
• Characteristics: Smooth chestnut coat, graceful stature, elegant movements.
• Notable Traits: Enhanced sensory perception, high adaptability, exceptional grace.
• Registration Number: EG2023HN005

As Randy read, a strange feeling washed over him. He looked up at Meadow's Grace, and for a moment, the way the light caught in her eyes seemed hauntingly familiar. It was a ridiculous thought – comparing a horse's gaze to Beth’s. But then, the mare shifted her weight from hoof to hoof again, a movement so characteristically Beth, as if she were ready to spring into action at any moment.

A wave of horror and realization crashed over Randy. It couldn't be, could it? The pieces of the puzzle – Beth's disappearance, her involvement in exposing EquiGen, Alex's warnings, the stories about EquiGen– all converged into a single, terrifying possibility.

He stared at the mare, his mind reeling. The mare looked back, and in that gaze, Randy saw something that went beyond mere animalistic instinct. There was an intelligence, a familiarity that shook him to his core.

"No, it can't be..." he whispered to himself, but the mounting evidence was overwhelming. The realization that Beth might be standing before him, transformed into this majestic creature, was both unfathomable and painfully clear.

Randy's heart raced with a mixture of fear, sorrow, and anger. How could this have happened? Who was responsible? The questions pounded in his head as he stood there, looking into Meadow's Grace's eyes, searching for the wife he feared he had lost to an unimaginable fate.