An uncomfortable silence negated the floating luxury boat’s tranquility, at least in Sam’s mind. “How do you do it, Gabe?”
“Which ‘it’ are you referring to, exactly?” Flagstaff replied.
“Dealing with this situation; living forever. You’ve been around a bit longer than I have, yet you maintain such perfect composure. Do material possessions really satisfy your needs so completely?”
Flagstaff chuckled softly. Sam’s directness was nothing new, but always interesting. “Was that an insult or a compliment, my friend?”
“Just a question.”
“I don’t really have an answer for you, unfortunately,” he sighed. “I simply can’t empathize with how you’re feeling right now. I’ve never experienced the infamous Immortal’s Lament, because I was born knowing that I was never going to die. I’ve made peace with it.”
“I wish I felt that way,” Sam whispered.
“No, you really don’t. I honestly think I’m messed up in the head. Mortals fear death, naturally; immortals either fear the concept of forever, or the ever-present threat posed by the Judgment Choir -- I only ever tremble when the stock market takes an unexpected nosedive.”
Flagstaff laughed a little at his own joke. “Funny you should have this existential crisis now though,” he continued, “I’ve been noticing something lately.”
“The Choir’s been busy lately. An immortal in Denmark I’ve been keeping in touch with was taken, just last week. Tragic, but he wasn't entirely blameless. One of my contacts in Copenhagen confirmed it. Do you think it could be because --
“Let’s hope so,” Sam replied, “Honestly, I’m considering it.”