Bright Night Past Yesterday: Book One of Forever Tomorrow, Volume One of The Book of Tomorrows, Page 2

PARTNER

  For almost a minute, Michael stared blank-faced at the screen, until Owen broke the silence by slapping him on the back in his old sportsman’s way.

  “What’s the matter, Mikey?” Only Owen called him Mikey. “Aren’t you going to check out her stats? See how you two match-up. You don’t want to choke your first time up at bat.”

  Jolted back to reality Michael blinked his eyes a couple of times before responding. “No, I um, think I will wait to later. I just need a moment to, um….Hey, speaking of match-ups, weren’t you supposed to be covering the fight tonight?”

  “I got Jackson to cover for me, so we could all celebrate.”

  “Come on, now. Give the guy a break. He just walked in the door and can’t even think straight yet. Let him go wash up.” Warren said. “Dinner will be ready in thirty minutes. I made all your favorites. Starting with a lovely lobster-bisque, served with just-back-in-season shellfish appetizers, and then onto our main course, your favorite, my special, homemade meat and veggie lasagna.”

  “You know, that sounds like a good idea. As a matter of fact, it all sounds great. I cannot thank you guys enough, but I really could use a good soaking, right about now.” Michael said thankfully accepting his friend’s thoughtful gestures. “I do appreciate everything you guys are doing for me.”

  “Ah, think nothing of it,” Jacob replied. “What are friends for?”

  As Michael headed to his room, Owen clicked the fight back on just in time to see the champ getting knocked out. He appeared to be yelling at the fallen pugilist sprawled out on his living room floor with the ref counting him out. “You got to be kidding me. Come on, get up, you bum.” Owen raged, continuing the long tradition of people yelling at their television sets.

  Michael smiled to himself as he pressed his thumb against the biometric door reader, which scanned his print before allowing access. The door clicked open, and Michael stepped inside, leaving it ajar. All the bedrooms of the community condos were designed with the same standard accessories; a full bathroom, a twenty-seven inch CPU-HDTV mounted on the wall over a work desk, a walk-in closet, a queen-size bed with two nightstands and a dresser—but Michael’s room was similar only in that respect. While many people developed an understated style with their personal belongings, Michael preferred a more nostalgic ambience. Stacks of old books, recorded music on compact discs, and old movies on DVD (all made before the fall, salvaged from the past, and treasured by Michael) covered his desk and filled bookcases. His work as a programming researcher in the new media capital of the world—old Las Vegas, now part of The Western Territory—gave him access to many old relics that survived the years of decay most of mankind did not. With many of the precious artworks from the past centuries forever lost; like the Mona Lisa, the Statue of David, and even the Sistine Chapel when the Vatican was burned to the ground in 2025, many massed produced goods with extensive shelf-lives remained in abundance, along with being preserved in uncorrupted computer databases.

  With the water cascading down on him courtesy of the pulsating torrents from the shower massage setting, Michael felt the sudden change in his life wash over him like crashing waves of reality. More like shock waves of reality. This just can’t be right. Someone made a mistake. Hit the wrong button or something. “Why me?” Michael spoke his last thought aloud.

  “Why not, you?”

  Leaning up against the aqua-blue-tiled shower wall, bracing himself with two outstretched arms, Michael cocked his head back and caught sight of Jacob standing in the bathroom doorway.

  “You are certainly physically fit enough. So there shouldn’t be any problems in that department.” Jacob said as Michael turned off the water and stepped out of the shower, grabbing a towel off the wall rack.

  Heading back into the bedroom, drying himself off, Michael picked up a pair of black sweatpants from off the bed, slipped them on, and then proceeded to dry his hair.

  “That is not what concerns me.” Michael said while putting on a black, short-sleeve polo shirt. “I am fine with being selected and all, just a little surprised.”

  “Maybe if you got out of that cave you call an office more often, and someplace other than archeological digs, you might find the rest of the world a more acceptable place.” Jacob said as he picked up a time worn copy of William Shakespeare’s Hamlet from off a bookshelf. “If you would just stop living in the past,” he added, dropping the book on the desk, not understanding its true value.

  Michael smiled his contemplative, familiar grin whenever broaching this subject. “I like my office. It’s quiet there, and sometimes the past is the only place I feel like I truly belong.”

  “Now you are just talking crazy. You finished atop of your class, moving up every step on the academic ladder. You have a Masters in anthropology and archeology, a BA in philosophy, and you probably know more about history than CHAD.”

  “I wouldn’t go that far.”

  “But that is my point, Michael. You could go as far as you want. The sky is the limit for someone like you. You could even be one of the Twelve one day, if you just applied yourself.”

  “That is your dream, not mine. I am not that ambitious,” Michael said as he went over to his desk and put his copy of Hamlet back in its proper place. He picked out another one of his unearth treasures from days gone by, a DVD box set of the original Star Trek television series that ran from 1966 to 1969, and after being canceled, it became a cult phenomenon, spawning several big screen films, almost as many TV spinoffs, and a rabid fan-base known worldwide as Trekies. Michael learned all that from his research, but it wasn’t the reason he held the show in such high regard.

  “You can learn a lot from the past, and I’m not just talking history. Take this old television show, it was so far ahead of its time, set way in the future and made while people were fighting against the Civil Rights Movement. The show promoted equality for everyone as evidenced by the diversity of the ship’s crew. Our ancestors clearly knew the difference between right and wrong, but unless it personally affected their lives, they just didn’t seem to care.”

  “Dinner will be ready in five minutes, and I’m putting out the appetizers now.” Warren announced from the dining area.

  Jacob hesitated in the bedroom doorway a moment, leaving Michael with a last word of advice. “The world is a very different place. We now live in a truly civilized society, free of hate, greed, lust, or any of the other things that used to make people go crazy. Look to the future, my friend. It is a much brighter place than what came before.”

  Michael lingered behind as Jacob headed for the dining room. Looking at his CPU-HDTV, he brushed his hand across the touch screen, causing the monitor to come out of sleep mode and the SBP notification to appear on screen.

  “I guess we will just have to wait and see about that.”

  Their plates empty, their dinners eaten, the four young men sat around the table relaxing after a good meal. The third movement of Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony, Ode to Joy, ended as the fourth movement began in all its majestic beauty.

  Owen pushed back his chair, unbuttoned his pants, and let out a deep, echoing belch, commemorating the occasion with his own style of showing final approval for the cook’s efforts. “Bravo, my good man. I salute the chef.”

  “I thought you just did,” Warren said.

  Jacob chuckled along with everyone else as he got up from the table. “I have the perfect capper for such a wonderful meal,” he said before disappearing down the hallway heading to his room.

  Warren started gathering the dishes stained with tomato sauce, along with the bowls filled with discarded shells from shrimp, crabs, and lobster tails. Michael got up to help, but Warren waved him back down. “Now, Michael, this dinner was in your honor, so just follow Owen’s lead over there, and make yourself comfortable.”

  Owen let out another loud belch to accentuate Warren’s point.

  Feeling obliged to his host, Michael followed suite, tilting back in his chair with his arms cl
asped behind his head.

  “It is good to be king.”

  “Now that’s pushing it kind of far. An Earl or a Duke or maybe even a Prince, but you don’t have the cunning or the ambition or the ruthlessness to be king, which is something to be thankful for,” Jacob said as he returned with a bottle of wine.

  The astonished looks on everyone’s faces seemed to please Jacob as he presented his offering.

  “Where on earth did you get that?” Warren asked.

  “Hey, Michael is not the only one with the connections to acquisition ancient artifacts still viable today. And while I do not know if Two-thousand-five was a good year for,” Jacob spun the bottle in his hand, unfamiliar with its heritage, but acquainted with its intrinsic value, “a Cabernet Sauvignon from the Napa Valley? But I’m sure it won’t make much difference to us.”

  Still amazed by his find, Warren prodded further. “I very well know how good you are in with the network heads, but just because you have the most popular show in the country, I find it hard to believe even they could get allowances for such prohibited contraband.”

  “I didn’t get it from the network heads. Well, not exactly. Remember last year when Guardian Administrator Cain presented me with the Prophet Warrior Humanitarian Award for my coverage on rebuilding the United Nations. After the ceremony, the GAC gave me this giftwrapped package and told me to save it for a special occasion.”

  All three friends remembered the event and knew the significance of the gift.

  “Wait a sec, that’s what you were doing with all that ice,” Warren said, then to Michael. “When I was preparing the lasagna, he got a bucket of ice from the refrigerator and took it back to his room.”

  “I had it chilling in my bathroom sink. So what do you say, shall we toast to our friend’s good fortune?”

  “I will go get some glasses,” Warren said after realizing he was still holding the dirty dishes before heading to the kitchen, while everyone else moved into the living room.

  The fourth movement of Ode to Joy entered its operatic phase with the four friends held heightened in a trance brought on by the euphoric melody mixing in with the stimulating effects of fermented grapes and a lingering herbal fragrance. Summoned by the music’s power, Michael’s hands moved about the air in an automatic reflex of conductor’s motions. With closed eyes, his mind traveled to a place where all time stopped in appreciation of true beauty, while his physical body remained seated on a soft, white-cushioned recliner setting across from its opposite number, with a matching sofa in between. Also caught up in the moment, Jacob was occupying the other recliner, with Owen and Warren sitting on the sofa. Popping out in sync with the music in vivid 3-D, a psychedelic light show filled the screen on the large CPU-HDTV. Set in between them and the monitor, the round-glass coffee table had the now half-empty bottle of wine on it along with four wine glasses in the same condition. Serving as a centerpiece was an ancient hookah, beautifully crafted and slightly modified to be smokeless through use of an attached balloon-like bag that filled with smoke and released at the user’s leisure.

  During the reconstruction of the country, the writing of a New Constitution compelled the need to make many difficult decisions concerning the social welfare of the people. Thus it was determined certain social ills of the past would not be incorporated for use or funded by the new government, while other previously demonized substances judged harmless and beneficial to the public’s health and comfort would be made available. In order to grow into a stronger and wiser nation, the physical and the psychological well-being of the people had to be the first priority in stabilizing the country. Therefore, the Health & Substance Act was an added amendment to the New Constitution, which not only prohibited the distilling or distribution of alcohol and the growth of most tobacco products, but also regulated and limited the availability of other substances proven unhealthy if consumed in unchecked proportions. It included products high in cholesterol, caffeine, saturated fats, preservatives, sugar, salt, high-fructose corn syrup, as well as red meat and other food groups contributing to diabetes, obesity, heart conditions, and many cancer related diseases. The amendment also contained products detrimental to the environment, such as plastic, Styrofoam, and other non-biodegradable materials, limiting their use and production. Many illegal drugs from the past; cocaine, heroin, methamphetamine (crystal meth), amphetamine (uppers), barbiturates (downers), phencyclidine (PCP), methylenedioxy- methamphetamine (ecstasy), and lysergic acid diethylamide (LSD), remained such. However, marijuana—a naturally grown substance that required no chemical process for its use and only natural preparation through harvesting and drying—would be made available for adult use in limited supply, but still illegal until age eighteen. It wasn’t long after adopting the Health & Substance Act that a noticeably optimistic change took place in the attitudes of the nation’s citizens. Understandably, there were a few dissenting voices, but their cries for “free will to live our lives as we see fit” were soon drowned out by the positive effects of the new policy. People began living better, more productive lives, mostly free from disease and the social ills of their ancestors. Addiction manifested sicknesses, like alcoholism and the abuses it bred, became a thing of the past. Without the constant bombardment of advertising brainwashing people into thinking addictive substances were part of our culture and the path to their happiness, they became aware of the lie and rendered the use of alcohol, tobacco, and unhealthy foods obsolete and unnecessary. Exercise and moderation in one’s diet replaced old, traditional, gluttonous attitudes saturating past cultures. No more would people gorge themselves on fast foods, candy, cakes, sweets, and all-you-can-eat meals. Everything used to be based on a monetary need to bring in new customers (since the old ones kept dying off) to keep up with the demand for bigger profits to impress corporate shareholders as the public paid the bill—which pleased the insurance companies, pharmaceutical manufacturers, the tobacco industry, and advertising executives just fine, because their bottom line was more important. By eliminating the motivating incentives for greed, the citizens became the nation’s new commodity and source of profit to grow the country’s economy. Indeed, there had always been some traditional ways dating back to the founding of our country that weren’t in the public’s best interest. Tobacco, for instance, saved the first colony of Jamestown from failing with seeds smuggled from Spain—a high crime at the time—and became America’s first cash crop, which the use and production of proved more important than the people’s health, even long after the harmful effects were discovered. Undoubtedly, ignorance was not our only misguided morality, for even the Founding Fathers felt the need for wealth and prosperity to be more significant than our humanity, with slavery deemed as a necessary evil the cotton trade depended on as a major part of our early economy. It made a complete hypocrisy out of our most treasured and revered document, which stated that all men are created equal. And there were many obviously not treated that way.

  A sudden change in tempo rocked Michael back to reality as Ode to Joy climaxed, and the powerful electric rhythms of The Doors’ classic rock ballad, Light My Fire, began. Pleasantly surprised with the diversity in musical selections, Michael sat up in his recliner, supporting his slightly diminished capacity by displacing his body weight to his elbows firmly planted on the arms of the chair. Slyly smiling, he looked over to Jacob.

  “I take it you are the maestro behind the eclectic selection of sounds.”

  “Guilty as charged,” Jacob admitted with a bit of tipsy whimsy in his voice. “In doing research for tonight’s musical repertoire, I took the liberty of accessing your personal library to compose an appropriate playlist.”

  Michael picked up his wine glass and gave cheer. “I salute your efforts, all of you, for everything, many thanks.”

  Everyone joined in and raised their glasses in thankful pleasantries.

  “Even though I understand the need for resurrecting artists of Beethoven’s stature, after all his work did live on for hund
reds of years after his death, I do not get this strange fascination you have with Rock and Roll. It is just a bunch of screaming and earsplitting twangs from electric guitars,” Jacob commented, probing further into Michael’s mind.

  “That is where you are wrong, Jacob. Other than the classical masters like Beethoven, rock ‘n’ roll is the only other form of musical expression worth saving. But you have to judge it according to what was happening in the country at the time, which is how I first discovered it, by studying history. You see, during much of the civil unrest going on in the Nineteen Sixties and Seventies, with a Presidential assassination, a very unpopular war, and widespread political corruption, rock music, more than any other medium, influenced history through social protests by standing up for humanity at a very dark time in our so-called civilized world. Musicians like Bob Dylan, Jimi Hendrix, and Jim Morrison, here,” Michael nodded in reference to the song playing. “Along with many others, played a vital role in elevating the minds of the people to look beyond the lies of the day and helped create a hope for a brighter future.”

  “That might all be true.” Jacob countered. “But when I was searching through your music library, I came across an intriguing fact that gave me an idea for a special program on how the immorality of the time contributed to the early demise of some of its most popular artists. Three of them, I can only presume must be your favorites from the amount of material you have on them—this Morrison, now playing, along with Janis Joplin, and this Jimi Hendrix you just mentioned—died within a year of each other, at the height of their popularity, and all from drug or alcohol abuse. It seems like quite a waste to me and only proves how well the new way works.”

  “I definitely agree. Their early deaths were a waste and a great loss, too. From some of what I have read, if Morrison wasn’t such a heavy alcoholic, he might have survived the drugs he used to expand his mind. It seems evident to me that having a heightened sense of your surroundings helped open the doors of perception and inspired true creativity. It’s just not for everyone.” Michael paused a moment to contemplate his next thought before expounding further. “As for your special, you might want to take into consideration Beethoven and Mozart were like the rock stars of their time—arrogant, rude, and lewd creative geniuses, who often behaved badly.”

  The powerful, pulse-pounding beat of Janis Joplin’s Piece of My Heart exploded into the room almost as if on cue to help Michael with his point. After the chorus of “Come on”, the first couple of verses played as he smiled at Jacob and the others.

  “Didn’t I make you feel, like you were the only man?

  Yeah, didn’t I give you nearly everything

  That woman possible can?

  Honey you know I did,

  Each time I tell myself when I think I had enough

  I’m going to show you baby that woman can be tough”

  “Can’t you just feel the passion in her voice? Every ounce of energy she had, she gave to her performance. Don’t you want someone who feels that way about you and you for them?”

  Owen and Warren looked at each other in an awkward moment of silence. Then Owen leaned back into the soft sofa cushion in a relaxed manner, while Warren sat up and boldly proclaimed his thoughts on the subject.

  “I think it would be the true joy of life, but from what I understand, and I’m no historian here, that has always been the hardest thing to find.”

  “You’re talking about love,” Jacob said with a degree of bewilderment. “A manufactured emotion created to sell greeting cards and shiny stones to silly girls. Now what you really want is a woman with good child bearing hips, which I have been told also gives you something to grip while in the saddle, so to speak.”

  Everyone slowly began to find amusement in Jacob’s words upon gaining a better clarity of their meaning.

  “Or at the least, someone who can cook for you,” Warren added, keeping in spirit with the lightening mood in the room.

  “Or someone who is a fan of the same team, then maybe my SBP match might have worked out,” Owen said with a feigned sense of remorse.

  Jacob gave Owen a thoughtful glance, then continued offering his philosophy. “Mutual sport teams aside, with all the progressive changes we made over the past hundred years, along with our virtuous shift in morality, every citizen now has a chance at a fuller life, which only increases the prospects of being matched to someone suited to you.”

  “Don’t get me wrong, I recognize the need for order, but is it too much to hope for someone you truly care about,” Michael repeated his feelings.

  “I’m just glad you’re not a government spy,” Owen said, but quickly regretted his attempt at humor, almost as if he could feel the oxygen sucked suddenly out of the room. “You think they would at least have come up with a cure for baldness, by now,” he added while simultaneously rubbing his receding forehead and wiping away the small beads of sweat beginning to form there.

  Owen’s faux pas passed by forgotten with the levity of laughter entering the atmosphere once again.

  Jacob continued on his quest to enlighten Michael about the virtues of being an SBP participant. “Look at it this way, maybe raising a son or daughter is the path to your purpose in life, what you are meant to do, your destiny.”

  This profound thought from Jacob brought on a contemplative silence to the festivities, signaling a more serious tone with the evening drawing to a close. As Janis Joplin’s final offering of her heart came to its vocalized crescendo coda, Jimi Hendrix’s uncharacteristically mellow love ballad, Angel, seemed to flow from the speakers on spiritual-winged song notes, leaving Michael with a hopeful heart and serene smile.

  Later that evening before going to bed, Michael sat at his desk and leaned forward to activate the retinal scan affixed to his CPU-HDTV, which caused the SBP packet to download onto his screen, revealing her decidedly alluring qualities.

  3

  Back at the museum, Michael still had her SBP image floating around in his mind as he closed his eyes for a couple of seconds to focus his thoughts more clearly. She was certainly very attractive in a way most appealing to him, which was something the SBP usually got right. But that wasn’t what concerned him. He knew he would have to make adjustments in his work schedule. Luckily, he could do most of his job from home, and his next expedition to New York City would take place long before any new arrival to his would-be family could come along. Then of course, there was always the chance of rejection by either party. Part of him thought it would be better for both of them if she found him unacceptable. That way neither of them would feel any repercussions from the decision. While Owen did not suffer any loss of position in his field as a sports commentator, Michael felt it could affect his ability to go on digs, and as for her, he thought even the folks at the SBP should realize it would take a very special person to put up with him. He did not believe himself to be the ideal candidate for a husband or a father. Letting out a dejected sigh, he opened his eyes.

  “Michael Angel.”

  “Eve Adams.”

  The vision transplanted from his thoughts into his mind now stood directly in front of him. Eve’s SBP notification image could not have prepared Michael for how this alive and radiant beauty would affect him. Her sunlight-blonde hair seemed to glisten in the bright morning light shining behind her, while blue, soulful eyes beamed out from a cheerfully rosy countenance. Surprised by the twenty year olds’ abrupt presence, Michael took a moment to collect his thoughts before continuing with the formalities of the occasion.

  “It is a real pleasure to meet you,” Michael said holding out his hand.

  “I am very pleased to meet you, too,” Eve replied taking his outstretched hand as she leaned forward and gave him a quick, friendly hug.

  Separating, Michael noted how light and bouncy on her feet she was, wearing a floral print sundress, cut-off just below the knee. Girlish in appearance, projecting a bright outlook on life, she kept a deep, subtle intellect to herself.

  “How w
as your trip over?” Michael asked. “I could have sworn I arrived here before you, and I didn’t see you on the early shuttle.”

  “I drove over from the Capital Building. Earlier this morning, I had to attend the final training seminar for my position at the Foreign Affairs Office in Alpha City.”

  “Alpha City is only ten miles from where I live.”

  “Guess we won’t have to worry about a long distance courtship,” Eve said with a girlish giggle, then added. “I mean…..I don’t want to be presumptuous or anything. At least I can offer you a ride back home.”

  “You are very kind, thank you. I do not like to take things for granted, either. I was hoping we could take some time to get to know each other before making any final decisions.”

  “That is a very thoughtful and practical approach to our purposeful rendezvous,” Eve agreed, adding with a motion of her hand toward the museum. “Which I trust is to your liking. I know it is a ways to travel to meet someone, but I thought you would feel more relaxed in a familiar environment.”

  “Oh, this is just great. I try to get back here whenever I get the chance. It has been one of my favorite places since the first time I came here as a grade-schooler, just like the ones taking the tour today.”

  “If you would like, we can join them. From what I read in your profile you can teach them a thing or two, yourself.”

  “Now you sound like my roommate, Jacob. He is also under the impression I know more than I really do. I have just always had a strange fascination with history. It seems like a good place to look for answers.”

  “Because that is where the answers to some of life’s most important questions remain. I truly believe your work has real value in helping preserve what most people want to forget. Everyone seems content to live in a Utopian haze, which there is nothing wrong with being happy. The world is a much better place than it has ever been. But we still need to remember the tragic cost it took to get here.”

  “I am so relieved to hear you feel that way, too. I do not know many people who understand it like you do,” Michael said as a calm feeling replaced the nervous butterflies he felt fluttering in his stomach.

  “Shall we, then,” Eve said holding out her hand to Michael.

  Taking her hand, Michael smiled as he felt the force of life pulsating through her flesh, giving him a positive energy aura of pure joy. Feelings he had never known before swept through his body, causing him to laugh at an amusing memory as they started up the pathway to the museum entrance.

  “What is so funny?”

  “Nothing, it’s silly. A line I remembered from an old movie is all.”

  “What? Tell me.”

  “Louie, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”

  Eve smiled wider than she had since first laying eyes on Michael. She squeezed his hand tighter as they approached the museum entrance. “I think you might be right. Who’s Louie?”

  The interior design of the museum was even more impressive than its exterior. The triple-dome structure split into three sections, offering an expansively wide space for every exhibit featured and educational program available. The middle dome served as the entrance and held a Learning Center, complete with a computer guided history tour. The other two sections were dedicated to opposite perspectives of world history, with the right dome displaying modern technology, science, and art, while the left dome was an exhibition of surviving ancient artifacts, which included everything from dinosaur bones, famous artworks, mechanical marvels of the past, and much, much more.

  Still holding hands, Michael and Eve entered the museum stepping into the lobby portion of the middle dome where a triangle-shaped directory set, pointing inward. The back of the triangle designated the location of the Learning Center, just inside the entrance, with the sides of the triangle pointing the way to the other exhibits. Another large banner hung over their heads, also heralding the upcoming Centennial. They detoured off into the Learning Center, which was comprised of two sections. The first was an academic aptitude testing area that granted the children a way to plan a proper course of action for achieving their future goals in life. It gave them the responsibility of selecting the subjects they wanted to study. A smaller banner indicated today was Career Day.

  The schoolchildren had just finished choosing their career goal paths. The system allowed the children to seek out the profession or vocation they were best qualified for and to avoid the ones they weren’t. It helped them to make informed decisions by examining their strengths and weaknesses, while providing guidance for the educational needs of every child.

  “Wow, this brings back memories,” Michael said.

  “Me, too. My indecisive mind always frustrated my teachers. I could never settle on a specific goal. They used to say I wanted to know everything about nothing in particular. While also telling me, learning as much as you can about anything and everything is not a bad thing, but it will leave you unfocused. Least that is what they believed. Me, I’m not so sure.”

  “I guess that explains why you took all those psychology and philosophy courses, plus you are fluent in five languages, when most people can’t be bothered to learn a second. I can see why some might question your motivations, but not me. Sometimes I think people can’t see beyond the nose on their face. I am glad you are not one of those worker-bee drones, refusing to think for themselves, and always do whatever their told.”

  “I believe we all have a purpose in life, and we are all meant to do something with our lives. Something that not only serves the self, but a greater good as well, which is the only way you will find true happiness.”

  “I take it that is what led you to the Foreign Affairs Office.”

  “Helping integrate foreign exchange students to our culture, while preparing teachers traveling abroad to others, has been a real uplifting and inspirational experience for me. I feel like I am playing a part in re-educating the world.” Eve said.

  Michael understood the sense of pride she took in her work, much in the same way he felt about his contributions to society, compelling him to tell her how simpatico he felt they were.

  “While I am sure you must get plenty of obligatory and sincere compliments about how beautiful you are,” Michael stated frankly as Eve shyly blushed, knowing the truth in his words, she was beautiful, there was no denying it, but sometimes she wished she was just average so…“I have to admit, I am really in awe of your mind.”...people would desire her for her…wait, what did he just say…mind. “You see the world in a different way than most people do. You don’t want to settle for a life full of complacent conformity. We are a lot alike in that way. Maybe there is something to this SBP system, after all. I never thought I would meet someone who sees things like I do.”

  With a burst of emotion stirred up inside her by his words, Eve embraced Michael, wrapping her arms around his neck as she gave him a quick, passionate kiss on the lips. Taken slightly aback by Eve’s unexpected show of affection, Michael looked blank-faced at her for a moment. Sensing her building embarrassment, he responded in kind and kissed her back for a longer duration and just as passionate. Even though it lasted only a couple of seconds more, to both of them, it felt like a moment locked in time, forever suspended in blissful joy.

  After separating from their strong embrace, a chorus of giggles greeted Michael and Eve, coming up from the schoolchildren staring at them. Now both of them felt embarrassed by their involuntary display of affection. Michael looked at Miss Laurence, whose forced smile seemed to indicate a clarifying response had better be forthcoming, to which Michael replied, “SBP.”

  “Aren’t new beginnings just wonderful, children,” Miss Laurence said as her smile became more genuine. “Perhaps when you come of age you will all be worthy of the chosen honor.”

  A museum tour guide came over from another section of the Education Center to lead the way to the next exhibit. She was a sixteen-year-old college student doing an internship at the museum, a position serving mor
e as a hostess due to the almost fully automated function of the facility. Her uniform harkened back to a retro look of a Nineteen Sixties airline stewardess, complete with a nametag reading: JANET.

  “I hope everyone was able to make an informed decision on the path to furthering your educations. I remember how invaluable Career Day proved to be for me,” Janet said to the children before guiding them onward. “Now if you will just step this way, I am sure the next stop on our journey will be a memory you will carry with you for the rest of your lives.”

  As the schoolchildren headed over to the next stop on the tour, Eve reached down and took hold of Michael’s hand once more.

  “Want to tag along?”

  “Sure, why not.”