Zero Sum, Book One, Kotov Syndrome Read Online Free PDF Page A

earlier.
After wolfing down lunch, Steven had returned to his workstation
and spent the rest of the afternoon typing furiously on his
keyboard, putting the final touches on the website he’d been
working on for the last month.
    Satisfied with the way the fields lined
up, he clicked ‘save’ and decided to call it a day. He looked at
his watch, then reached his arms over his head and stretched,
finally finished with the huge project he’d taken on.
    Steven padded over to an overstuffed
chair in the corner of his den and sat down, assuming a familiar
position – hands clasped in his lap, eyes closed, head slightly
bowed. His breathing subsided to a few intakes per minute, shallow
breaths, hardly discernible. His blood pressure dropped, heart rate
slowed.
    Meditation had been an important part
of his martial arts discipline for eighteen years. The experience
inevitably left him feeling cleansed and focused, and he found it
helped every aspect of his performance. Synapses were better
aligned, reflexes improved, responses more immediate.
    He stayed in a meditative state for
twenty minutes, until some distant part of him signaled a return to
awareness. His vital signs increased, breathing became deeper, and
he opened his eyes, revitalized and refreshed.
    The first few moments were always
dreamlike, almost the same as walking out of a quiet museum or a
church after mass; the senses re-calibrating to motions and sounds
and near- constant stimuli.
    Rising from his tranquil spot in the
corner, he ambled over to the sliding glass doors and considered
the view. It was dusk, and the sun was beginning its spectacular
descent into the glittering sea.
    Avalon lollopped over to greet him,
hopeful for an outing. They walked onto the patio, taking in the
non-stop passage of tourists and locals skating and rolling and
pedaling past his vantage point. He noticed Gilbert, the resident
homeless guy who invariably shuffled along this very route every
evening, engrossed in discourse with invisible companions who
assisted him with his inspection of the garbage cans lining the
path.
    Steven went inside and rummaged through
the refrigerator for last night’s leftovers and searched in his
pockets for a few small bills. He knew Gilbert would never beat
whatever afflicted him, but to Steven’s way of thinking, it didn’t
matter. Sometimes you win...
    He hopped over the gate and greeted
Gilbert by the little bench on the strand, as was his custom. They
talked a while, and Steven handed him what he had to offer, which
was always gratefully accepted. Avalon, adept at following Steven
over the gate, looked up at him hopefully, tongue lolling happily
out of his mouth.
    “Don’t worry, boy. There’s still some
chicken left for you.”
    They returned to their little patio to
watch the show. Catalina Island shimmered in the distance and
remote oil platforms jockeyed with tankers in the shipping lanes
for preeminent position for the evening’s sunset
performance.
    He registered the garage door opening
and closing, and soon felt hands on his shoulders.
    “You’re a lucky bastard, my friend.”
Jennifer had already changed out of her work outfit – khakis and
black blouse – and into sweat pants and a tank top.
    “Rather be lucky than smart.” They’d
been dating for a couple of years, a comfortable relationship that
had developed a rhythm that satisfied their needs.
    Jennifer considered his profile before
looking over to the desk with the pile of research and notepads
inside the house. She knew about his web project. “Aren’t you
worried about waving a cape in front of the bull?”
    “These dirt-bags are selling junk to
widows and orphans, wiping out life savings, and ruining the
market,” he said as he leaned back and closed his eyes. “I’m just
leveling the playing field. No big deal.”
    “When are you planning to put it
online?” she asked.
    “Why not tonight?”
    “I don’t know, Steven. I’ve had a bad
feeling about this since