Bright Night Past Yesterday: Book One of Forever Tomorrow, Volume One of The Book of Tomorrows, Page 4

CHAPTER THREE

  BECOMING EVE

  1

  The slick silver Eco-Ride Commuter-Coupe moved swiftly down the ingeniously modernized SG70 Highway, traveling at speeds in excess of 150 mph. During the early reconstruction period of New America, it was a practical necessity to utilize any infrastructure in the country still viable after long years of neglect and decay. Through the modification of major roadways, Super-Glide Highways now propelled vehicles forward on gliding suction-pockets of air, vacuum sucked into ventilation ducts built onto existing roadways. Generated from subterranean wind tunnels, this innovating technology used turbo-power exhaust fans to hold vehicles down on the road with tremendous drawing power, ensuring every motorist a safe, smooth, carefree ride at greatly increased speeds and reduced travel times. A 750-mile trip used to take around eleven hours, but with the GPS Autodrive engaged (mandatory on all Super-Glide Highways) between only four and five.

  The auto industry was alive and well in the Northern Territory of New Detroit, thriving with a competent, well-satisfied workforce that took pride in their labors. The solar power Eco-series was the only make of vehicle, however, there were several different models to choose from—a commuter car (available in a coupe or sedan), a SUV reserved for SBP families and research expeditions, a variety of travel vans, an assortment of construction and delivery trucks, along with emergency and utility vehicles—all allocated to individuals upon the needs of the driver. Even so, mass transit was the most widely used means of transportation, by either shuttle, for long distance express runs, or bus, for local everyday travel.

  The improved technology brought about a change motorists had been yearning for since Henry Ford started rolling the Model T off the assembly line—the end of accidents and traffic. For years, congested freeways and city streets bred an arrogant conduct in many drivers, manifesting in an uncontrollable anger called road rage. The personal freedom one acquired from having control over a powerful machine permitted motorist to act in ways they normal wouldn’t. For example, take a heavy smoker and coffee drinker, deny him his morning fix of caffeine and nicotine, make him run late for an important meeting, and then stick him in a big traffic jam, you could conceivably have a homicidal maniac behind the wheel.

  Nowadays, there were safer, more efficient ways for people to travel and transport goods, eliminating the rush hour and creating a harmony of movement. Even though people didn’t miss what they never had with the privacy provided by a solitary commute, it would be hard to imagine anyone would still prefer the old ways.

  Public transportation became a clean, comfortable, friendly alternative where people socialized before and after work, rather than at fast food joints or their local bar. With the companies providing transportation for their employees, a familiarity developed among the passengers from their natural occupational affinity. They even sent a doctor to make house calls when someone called in sick. The school systems offered the same service to all students from grade school thru college, except for preschoolers. There was an effort made to preserve some of the old—American apple pie—traditions, like moms dropping off and picking up young schoolchildren first voyaging out into the world, especially if the act evoked an emotional and psychological bond between parent and child, not unlike a mother bird pushing her younglings out of the nest to fly on their own for the first time.

  Inside the car, the occupants were enjoying a relaxing, comfortable ride, free of any mechanical or ambient noise. The sound of music flowed from the speakers at a medium volume letting the voice of conversation be heard, while still being able to enjoy the crystal clear notes playing in perfect harmony. Spring, Vivaldi’s seasonal masterpiece, with its commanding chorus of violins, induced childhood memories in Eve. It locked her on a tunnel vision path through her mind with the highway and time racing head on into the past. She found herself running through an open field of tall grass, sweat breaking on her brow, the high blades scraping her bare thighs just below her running shorts, leaving tiny red scratches on her pale flesh, her mind racing as quickly as her pumping heart and pounding feet.

  How could you let this happen? How can I be so foolish? Losing time. Again! Always running late. I swear I’ll never be late, again. From now on, I will be the paragon of punctuality. No more distractions, no matter how hard it is to pull one’s self away from the lyrical beauty of Shakespeare’s prose. Eve’s thirteen-year-old mind chided the lack of self-discipline that led her down this path, vowing to rectify her habitual tardiness.

  Breaking the edge of the grass line, her hurried destination came into view. The sight of punctual competitors waiting on the starting line crouched down in rested readiness did not bring on a sigh of relief, but instead an adrenaline fueled rush of increased urgency after seeing the race official raise a starter’s pistol above his head. The shot rang out as Eve breached the racetrack entrance, fortuitously located right behind the starting gate. She came sprinting onto the track, merely four seconds after the race began. Never breaking stride, Eve started the race in last place—a position she would not be in for long.

  Rounding the first quarter mile of the four laps in the one-mile race, Eve had already moved from seventh to fourth place and was quickly gaining ground on the other runners. She refused to divert her attention from the track until reaching the quarter mile stretch of the final lap, which she had just passed. Managing a quick glance at the stands, she caught a glimpse of her parents among the spectators. The immediate disappointment she felt coming from them for her late arrival, even though she was now in second place and about to take the lead, gave Eve a burst of energy that propelled her into a first place finish comfortably ahead of the competition. It wasn’t until bent over, hands on knees, while catching her breath, she noticed the stranger standing with her parents—who was also seeing Eve for the first time—and marked the moment as the day everything changed.

  “I have to extend you kudos, Eve. You certainly have fashioned a wonderful symmetry between your musical selection and your choice of where to meet. Vivaldi always brings back recollections of my youth.” Michael said as he commended Eve’s perceptive nature, snapping her back to the present in the process.

  “I am glad the music pleases you. It often transports me back in time whenever I hear it, too.” Eve knowingly replied, then inquired about other remembrances of youth. “Do you ever reflect on childhood memories of things that could have been?”

  “Do you mean grander dreams of youthful exuberance that inspire one to create great works of art, or write grand stories of epic literature, or compose classical masterpieces of music, instead of just vicariously admiring the joy they bring us?” Michael answered after a thoughtful moment with a question of his own.

  “Well, things of that nature. I always felt most alive when running in competition. I used to love the thrilling feeling of testing my endurance, seeing how far I can push myself, competing against others with the same aspirations for being the best at something. I gave it up when my parents died to focus on higher goals they felt I was destined to fulfill. Something they deeply believed.”

  “I am very sorry for your loss. I know how hard it can be.” Michael said taking a solemn pause. “My mother used to love hiking in the woods before she died from anaphylactic shock after being stung by a bee. The thing is, no one ever knew she was allergic, not even her.” Michael offered his condolences with a shared reflexive moment of sorrow.

  “She must have been a special woman to raise such a fine young man.” Eve sympathized as she reached over and took hold of Michael’s hand. “While this may only offer you little comfort, she did get to see you graduate college and go on to become a man of the world before she passed. A knowledge I believe comforts her still.”

  Michael sullenly gazed at Eve as an eye opening realization dawned on him. “Oh, my, I didn’t think about it earlier. According to your SBP file, you were still in high school when your parents were killed.”

  “One month shy of my fourteenth birthday,�
� Eve recalled. “The last time I saw them I was running late for a track meet.” A sad, little smile crossed her faced over recently remembered thoughts, but quickly faded away as other memories lingered. “They had to leave right afterwards on a humanitarian aid mission to Australia, but their plane went down somewhere in the Pacific. Nobody knows how it happened or what could have caused it.”

  “I remember hearing about it on the news during my freshman year in college. It was the first story my future roommate covered. Never did make sense how something like that could remain a mystery to this day. Maybe CHAD is right, and there are no answer to some of life’s most intriguing and sought after questions.” Michael suggested in an effort to change the subject and lighten the mood, adding. “Kind of like my SBP notification ahead of someone like my roommate. Jacob is not only older than me, he is the star of the most popular show on TV, and he also has—let’s say—more socially redeeming qualities than I do. I even thought it rather strange when they matched me to someone else with a deceased mother or father, knowing how much they like having the full family dynamic in place, which usually includes grandparents.”

  “I also questioned that at first. Then I met you and found my curiosity fully satisfied.”

  “Okay, you got me there,” Michael agreed. “I can definitely see your point. At least that is one questioned with an easy answer.”

  “You can always find the answers to life’s most important questions, if you look in the right places. There just not as easily revealed.”

  “In that case, I sure wish someone could tell me how my mother and father were ever matched. I do not think I ever met two people more diametrically opposed to each other. Night and day, day and night,” Michael inverted his last statement, while simultaneously pondering familiar thoughts. His mother, Angelica, was clearly the bright light guiding him with her compassionate understanding, sensitive nature, and gentle ways being in stark contrast to his namesake. His father was a cold, hard, disillusioned man, whose failed dreams of being a star baseball player left him distant from a son without any similar youthful ambitions. “I do not know why they even decided to stay together after first meeting.”

  “Why that last one is easy, silly. So they could bring you into the world. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be here, now.”

  “I do like the way your mind works. I know you would be a wonderful mother.”

  “And you a terrific father.”

  “I’m not so sure. It is an awesome responsibility. I worry I would be too much like my father, cut-off and isolated. It is the only thing we have in common.”

  “Your strengths can come from his weaknesses. A good father is not always born from a good man. Sometimes we find a parental figure to help mentor us when the biologicales aren’t able to offer proper guidance.” Eve proposed a brighter outlook, knowing how the words truly applied to her. Then in an inspired moment of symbolic clarity, added. “We may not turn out to be who we want to be, but sometimes we can become the person we were meant to be.”

  2

  College Amphitheater-Berkley, CA 2186

  Eve was early. Eve was always early now. It was the one thing to which she could truly commit.

  In a little over two years since her parents’ tragic demise, the sixteen year olds’ mind grew in unison with her adolescent body, blossoming like early spring flowers showing their youthful beauty. And while the maturation of her body was clearly visible with pert breasts rising up in shapely form that were more developed than the other sixteen year olds’, the changes in her mind she kept to herself.

  Mostly governed by a balance between morality and sexuality, fashion styles and personal appearance have always been influx with the time in which people lived. What people considered acceptable, often varied throughout the years. Nowadays, with no sensual input to stimulate the libido, people took on a more reserved manner of dress—utilizing muted colors and simple designs—which included what they found to be physically appealing, too. The old, traditional pin-up girl flashiness of the buxom blonde displaying a fine figure and an overt sensuality was thought of as improper behavior, and anyone who flirted with the look was frowned upon, however unintentionally accorded to one’s own physical attributes.

  It didn’t bother Eve that she sort of stood out up front. She liked being different. It made her feel unique, special even. She never really put much stock in what other people thought. Being herself was more important, as was keeping her word.

  The warm noonday sun felt good on her white, soft skin as she sat alone in the back row of the stone-carved benches making up the amphitheater’s seating. The lecture didn’t start for an hour and a half, leaving Eve plenty of time to study in solitude on a quiet Saturday in late April. She liked the scenic peace of being outdoors in the wooded park area. It was the kind of a place where she could get so lost in her studies and never even notice someone approaching from behind.

  “May I inquire if you are an ardent admirer of the speaker in accordance to your advanced arrival for today’s event?” A polite voice sounded out in unexpected presence.

  “I never heard of him.” Eve simply replied in a nonchalant manner before turning to see who was speaking to her. Leaving a digital bookmark on her college CPU tablet, she slightly shifted in her seat to get a better look at who was addressing her. An instant flash of recognition crossed her face. A man she had seen twice before. First from her racetrack viewpoint, the day her parent’s went missing, and the second time was at their memorial service, when she saw him talking to Jean. But instead of asking his name, she quickly added, “My Career Counselor recommended it.”

  The man knew why Eve was there and why she was early, but pressed on with an ignorant façade. “Should I presume philosophy is your career goal, then?”

  Taking a moment’s pause, which could have been construed as someone looking for a way out of a conversation, Eve really only wanted to take a couple of seconds to size up this stranger who seemed intent on talking to her. He had a disheveled appearance, represented by a three-day beard stubble and accented by his scraggly, grizzled hair. She put him somewhere in his late forties to early fifties. He wore a dated, black business suit under a thin, grey, western Duster, while supporting a pair of horn-rimmed glasses perched on the end of his nose, which allowed her to glance up at his wisdom-filled, old eyes, revealing a formidable presence behind those baby blues.

  “I did not declare one, yet. I have not committed to any one subject, something my CC is always giving me grief about.”

  “I would not let it concern you. You seem like a bright young lady. When the time is right, what you are searching for will find you.

  “I wish Miss Stephens had as much confidence in me as you do.”

  “Jean Stephens?”

  “Yes. Do you know her?”

  “A casual acquaintance,” the man lied, then changed the subject. “If I am not being too forward, may I ask, what were you studying before I came along that held your attention so fixed?”

  “Oh, something else Miss Stephens isn’t too happy about. It’s an essay for my social science class.”

  Eve was going to leave off there, but felt compelled to explain further.

  “I am doing a comparative study on two of science fiction’s most famous novels, focusing on how close those writers’ visions of the future came to being true, what could have motivated their work at the time, and finally, how closely it relates to today’s society.”

  “What two novels?”

  “George Orwell’s 1984 and Ray Bradbury’s Fahrenheit 451,” she stated plainly.

  “I understand her concern, but I believe it might be misplaced, depending on how you handle the material.”

  “Well now, that is the tricky part. You see, they both explore similar themes of governments exerting control over people by using censorship and technology, including psychological and physical manipulations of the mind, all done in an effort to eliminate independent thought, rewrite history, and justif
y their actions. But they go about securing order in vastly different ways.”

  “More times than not, there are many paths leading to the same place,” the man said.

  “Very true,” Eve agreed then continued with her impromptu formal discourse. “Written during what was once called the Atomic Age and only a year apart, they are both definitely products of their time. First published in 1949 as a short story, 1984 takes places in a dystopian future London where the world is almost at constant war. The Party strictly controlled the will of the people with the Thought Police and Big Brother watching everything you did. And if you showed any sign of emotion, they arrested and brutally tortured you until you accepted the Party or died. Fahrenheit 451 came out a year later, set in an unnamed 24th century city after two atomic wars took place sometime before 1990. It utilizes a different approach in order to control its citizens. The government cultivates a society constantly bombarded with meaningless entertainment, loud music, fast cars, and mind numbing advertising, all to suppress independent thought to the point of spurning knowledge and burning the intellectual mind out of existence, much like the books the firemen torched. At least that one has a hopeful ending.”

  “By rebuilding the world with books of knowledge, I think I can see where you might be going with this. But please, continue.”

  “The big difference between what inspired those authors’ allegoric fables and our own society is intention and method. With the start of the Cold War and the spread of communism as strong motivating factors, these stories served as warnings about governments gaining too much control over its people, due to the fact that absolute power corrupts absolutely. Sadly, their foreboding message faded over the years as the world began to transform into a hybrid of their totalitarian nightmare—only like the frog in the frying pan slowly simmering, we did not feel it until it was too late either. By the time the 21st century came along, the masses were being brainwashed with meaningless distractions, false promises of wealth, and a fear of god to help morally maintain order. Using a conservatively biased news media, reduced to nothing more than a propaganda machine, corporate power players guided and controlled their political agendas and the public’s welfare. They conned people into voting against their own self-interests. This is why capitalism and democracy ultimately failed. Their superior way of thinking led to an arrogant mindset, allowing corrupt systems to prosper, which only served the self and not the whole. They even passed a law that said corporations had the same rights as people. Eventually, those who could speak out and do something about it were either too filled with apathy for a broken system, disillusioned at their chance of success, or too exhausted to care anymore.”

  “There was one who did more than speak out.”

  “The Author,” Eve reflexively responded. “But even when writing The Book of Tomorrows, he knew it was too late for mankind to survive under the conditions present at the time. We now live in a society that truly benefits all of its citizens, not just the lucky few. People back then could not conceive of the sacrifices they would have had to make. They didn’t even willingly choose the ones needed to survive. Instead, they burned through their natural resources and in the process polluted the earth, sea, and air. By upholding a firm belief in the religious dogma of many conflicting faiths, fanatical followers spread a divisive, hateful speech, advocating horrific crimes against humanity in the name of whichever god they worshiped. Also, a strict adherence to archaic, puritanical values oppressed sexual freedom and bred starving, overpopulated third world nations, along with radical, extremist suicide bombers manipulated with promises of paradise in the afterlife, when actually serving the greed for wealth and power of others in this life. In the end, it was only because we had to start anew we were able to rebuild our nation without the trappings of wealth or beliefs that kill. Today, everyone has the opportunity to live comfortably without having to worry about mortgage payments, college funds, or living expenses, thereby creating a well-educated, happy workforce. The people became a more informed, intelligent public. We no longer teach our children mythological or theological fables as facts, and we finally stopped denying the origins of life.”

  “I can see why Jean….Miss Stephens recommended a lecture on the modern day applications of ancient Greek philosophers. Over 2,500 years ago, the Greeks started rejecting the mythical explanations of life to focus more on rational theories, deducing a logical order of things. In the process, they determined man controlled his own destiny, not gods or goddesses. A lesson he learned from fighting wars.”

  Eve found herself starting to wonder about this offhandedly-quaint man she had been talking to for some time now. “You sound like someone with a philosophical view of the world. Are you attending the lecture?”

  “I would not say attending. I will be around, though.” Before Eve could make any further personal queries, the man elaborated on some philosophical ponderings relevant to Eve’s essay. “If it was not for the Greeks first asking the eternal question, ‘what exists and why’, this love of wisdom, known as philosophy, might not have accorded the human mind the freedom to contemplate analytical theories on the origins of the natural world that were not bound by the blind faith required from spiritual or mythical beliefs. Instead, they searched for answers by using logical thought to determine reality as unchanging. They formulated there was an inherent mathematical order to the universe, as well as devising the theory that opposites in nature were fighting a continuous battle neither could ever win. Because one was dependent on the other—you cannot have light without dark, good without evil. Of course, they didn’t always agree with each other. Nor did it much matter, anyway. Traveling teachers, called Sophists, practiced the subtle art of persuasion. Considered a sham-wisdom by Aristotle and other great minds, the success of their debate did not depend on who was right or wrong, but who was more convincing. In other words, if you could persuade someone that 2 + 2 = 5, you won, in spite of being wrong.”

  Neither Eve nor the man noticed the people starting to arrive, slowly filling the amphitheater as the man kept Eve’s attention with his off-the-cuff lecture.

  “Back in the time of mankind’s humble beginnings as a creature of intellect, Socrates, a true philosopher and lover of wisdom, belonged to a trinity of great thinkers, which included the brilliant minds’ of Plato and Aristotle. Their philosophical theories on logical thought, along with the deep meaning found in their written words of lyrical beauty, are still highly relevant, extraordinary ponderings on our existence 2,500 years after their deaths. Socrates taught his students to think for themselves, to use their minds to answer questions by asking questions, and argue both sides of the issue in order to arrive at the correct conclusion.

  “Plato was Socrates’ most famous student, who rationalized mankind was born with a universal knowledge of the world at birth, and we need to recollect what we already know through contemplative thought. However, his most prominent pupil, Aristotle (a polymath who knew a great deal about most everything—except math, for some odd reason) had the empirical belief knowledge comes from experience. Something I personally feel is one of those a little from column-A, a little from column-B scenarios. Nevertheless, I believe you will find some perspective parallels for your essay in Plato’s Republic. Considered the blueprint for a perfect future society, Plato suggested democracy was merely a charming form of government, citizens should only play a small part in state affairs, and a philosopher king—or guardian—should rule the country with an aristocracy of the very best minds making government policy decisions. Written as a dialogue of conversation, a form Plato believed truth and wisdom could only be truly grasped, he intended it as a warning that without sound leadership, respect for the law, and a proper education of their children society would slowly decay and their cities would fall into ruin.”

  For the first time, Eve noticed the gathering crowd and realized how much time must have passed.

  “Oh my, how long have we been talking? I think the lecture is about to be
gin.” Eve wondered with an anxious feeling of time slipping away. She felt late again. Almost too late, but not for the lecture, it was something else, something more important.

  The man shot a quick glance toward the stage and appeared to be looking for a way down. But, he offered a final tidbit of wisdom, first. “Just remember, no matter how impeccably designed a society is—if the people have everything they need, are free of financial worries, career obstacles, with an intelligent, well-satisfied public—any government can still be corrupted from within through the weakness of our human frailties. For like the magician’s trick of old, if you can get the people to look one way long enough, you can bring an elephant on stage without anybody ever noticing or even knowing how you did it.”

  The amphitheater came alive as a man on stage did a sound test, “Test, test.”

  The man gazed down to the stage, about ready to leave as Eve called out to him. “Wait a sec. I would really like to know whom I’ve been talking to this whole time. Pleased to make your acquaintance, I am Eve Adams.” Eve said standing up, holding out her hand.

  “I am very pleased to have met you, too, Eve. It has been my distinct pleasure conversing with you,” he said taking her hand.

  The stagehand quieted the crowd as he introduced the speaker. “Ladies and gentlemen, I am very pleased to welcome Professor Maximilian Valentine to the stage.”

  The man started walking toward the stage as Eve called out one last time. “Wait. I still don’t know your name.”

  “Sure you do. I prefer Max, though.”

  3

  A remembrance montage of the last three years since meeting Max at the lecture flew by in Eve’s mind, much like the cloudy blue sky she soared through in the newly modified twin-engine Cessna. Just like the plane she piloted, much had changed in her life, too. With thoughts far away from any notion of a looming SBP notification on her horizon or the manner in which it would be arranged, Eve found herself reflecting on how the invigorating feeling she used to get from running could never compare to the liberating independence she felt blasting through the inexhaustible firmament. Being a pilot like her father was a childhood dream that quietly withered away after her parent’s mysterious disappearance. She could never truly accept their deaths in her mind without any proof of what happened. While many dreams fade away and never dreamt again, some whims of the imagination can find a renewed vigor with support coming from familiar faces, popping up in unexpected places.

  After achieving major academic degrees in Philosophy and Psychology, plus minor associate degrees in English Literature and Social Science, while also becoming fluent in French, German, Italian, and Spanish, along with getting certified in Emergency Medical Healthcare, Eve was urged by her Career Counselor to chase down one of her childhood dreams. With her parents gone, Miss Stephens became more of a mentor than a Career Counselor. Like the daughter she never had, Jean loved the young girl since her first day of school, making the role of surrogate parent a natural fit. Her only difficulty was getting Eve to focus her energy toward a specific career goal, instead of spreading herself too thin over many different fields of interest.

  In an effort to fill the void left by her parents’ tragic departure, Eve dedicated her life to more philanthropic pursuits they encouraged her to follow. Ever since, she focused on things that served the whole and not just the self, eventually causing Jean to worry she was becoming too serious. She believed Eve needed to do something before graduating college to bring back the pure joy of life missing over these mournful years of loss.

  Nearly from the time she learned to walk, Eve began to run. A natural athlete who excelled at every individual team sport she participated. Her tomboyish, competitive nature led to a bookcase filled with first place medals, trophies, and blue ribbon awards that were not only germane to track and field events, but also included gold medal efforts in gymnastics and swimming competitions. Even at the early age of ten, Eve always sought out ways to push the thresholds of her boundaries, and the sky truly was the limit after a plane ride with daddy. Her father promised to give her pilot lessons when he returned from Australia. But the love born out of a strong father daughter bond went away when he did. And now that forgotten dream had become a reality.

  Unlike athletic glory, which mostly served the self, being a pilot served the whole as well as the self. In a short amount of time, Eve could fly anything from a cargo plane to a 747-jet airliner, but loved solo flights in small bi-planes. Zipping through the clouds like an arrow shot into the sky, the high-powered aircraft exhilarated and rejuvenated Eve, bringing back that joy of life Jean felt missing. The new, improved aviation designs and technologies made it possible to travel farther, longer, and faster than ever before. At the present time, air travel inside New America was no longer a necessary or viable means of transportation, but Jean knew being a pilot would have certain tactical advantages when Eve started working at the Foreign Affairs Office.

  Over the long years of dormancy, people aspiring to learn special skills had to teach themselves by using books and other reference materials still available. There were no experts left to educate eager learners seeking higher knowledge, making certain endeavors incredibly risky to even attempt. Eve knew pilot skills were a valuable commodity and took full advantage of the opportunities it offered her.

  Looking up into the stratosphere from down on solid soil, Jean and Max surveyed the sky for any sign of Eve’s plane. They sat out on the veranda of the retro-lounge of the Rory Houston Airport terminal, named after the first man to successfully reacquire the art of flying—the Orville Wright of his day. While confident in her ability to navigate the friendly skies and safely return to this terrestrial abode of ours, their concerns went beyond an unscathed landing.

  “Are you sure we are doing the right thing?” Jean asked, questioning her own culpability in their clandestine agenda.

  “It does not matter now. We no longer have any other choice. She is the only one left.” Max answered, understanding her concern. He had grown quite fond of Eve. He was beginning to wish there was a way to spare her the awful truth and let her live in blissful ignorance like so many of the other complacently conformed out there.

  4

  Professor Maximilian Valentine’s desire to spare Eve from knowing the truth was an opinion he formed after their first rendezvous. But by their next pre-arranged chance meeting, he realized the qualities he wished to preserve in her the most were also the ones that made her the perfect choice. Once exposed to certain hard truths in life, our innocence is the first thing we lose. Onetime a true believer in the new system, Max knew full well the weight of that loss and could still feel it on his shoulders walking down the street on a muggy May morning.

  Two weeks after meeting Eve at the lecture, Max casually made his way down the Berkley campus street with those thoughts running through his head. He agreed with Jean’s recommendation, even if there were others who did not, knowing the success of any mission relied on finding the right person for the job.

  Looking up the street a bit, Max spotted Jean and Eve sitting at an outdoor café. The brisk, early Saturday morning air left the narrow college town street mostly vacant of passer-byes, other than an Electra Solar Glide bicycle breezing by him and heading toward the café. The ESG bicycle was the most popular form of conveyance among college town dwellers, SBP families, and other regional areas where the user’s need permitted. It gave the rider a choice of pedaling yourself or be carried along on electric glide power.

  Not wanting Eve to see any premature recognition on her face, Jean sat with her back to Max as he approached their table. Shortly after the ESG bike passed by them, Jean felt the presence of someone else coming their way before hearing the footsteps gaining clarity from an increased proximity.

  Distracted by the sound of Eve’s voice, Jean lost track of how close the footsteps were getting, also missing what Eve said to her. Quickly trying to recover, Jean simply nodded in implied acknowledgement, uttering a muttere
d, “Ah, huh.”

  “Jean, are you listening to me? I swear your head has been in the clouds all morning.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry, my dear. It’s nothing, really. I just….” Jean sensed a presence passing by as she was trying to think of something to say. A lump formed in her throat preventing speech as Max was going to walk by Eve unnoticed. Jean was about to call out his attention when Eve caught sight of Max out of the corner of her eye.

  “Professor Valentine? Is that you?” Eve called out, stopping Max in mid-step as he pivoted around on his planted foot.

  An expression of mock surprise crossed Max’s wrinkled, beard-stubble countenance as a genuine smile perched on his upturned lips in a joyful grimace. “Oh, my, if it isn’t the lovely young lady I had such a delightful conversation with before my lecture a couple of weeks ago,” Max paused a moment to suggest time for remembrance as he looked over to Jean. “Miss Stephens, it has been awhile since I taught at Berkley, but if I do remember correctly, we were on the faculty around the same time.”

  Jean also feigned a look of recollection before answering. “Oh, yes. It was your last year when I started teaching, but I often heard you mentioned in those laurelled halls with tales of lamented lore for your stimulating lectures on philosophical thought. Please, join us. We were just sort of talking about you. Eve was telling me after attending your lecture she decided on philosophy as one of her majors.” Then glancing at Eve, Jean added. “You see, dear, I was listening.”

  “Why, thank you, it would be my pleasure to join you lovely ladies.” Max kindly accepted the invite, pulling out a chair and taking a seat before he queried Eve, “One of your majors? How many are you taking?”

  “However many it takes to be the most qualified in whatever field I choose.”

  “What determination you must have to stand so firmly by your convictions. I am sure you will be the best at whatever you put your mind to. Won’t she, Jean?”

  “She is definitely more qualified than others I can think of,” Jean agreed.

  Jean’s last comment confused Eve for a moment. She had never known Jean to compare her student’s academic credentials that way before, more like a proud mother than an impartial Career Counselor. Jean’s appearance also seemed more dressed up than the occasion of tea with a student would call for, unless their chance meeting with Max wasn’t too unexpected.

  Eve was casually dressed in a navy blue running suit, and Jean wore a real smart pantsuit with her hair fashionably styled. She was even wearing make-up, something she hardly ever did. At forty-seven, Jean still maintained most of her youthful beauty, a striking woman who seemed like a perfect match for Max. Whatever the reason that brought them there did not matter to Eve. She liked being in adult company.

  Girls her age didn’t get her, nor she them. She could not understand how most of her classmates had this pre-programmed, robotic need to conform to whatever goals somebody else said they were best suited. It seemed more akin to an ant colony society where the drones just did what they were born to do, accepting it without any personal choice in the matter. A recent societal survey she read showed certain occupational fields were becoming generational careers for their offspring. Nevertheless, Eve had to acknowledge the duplicity of her parental career path, except following in their footsteps was a decision she came to of her own free will.

  As the years went by, Eve often found herself in the company of Jean and Max, usually bumping into Max by some fortuitous accident at museums, art galleries, lectures, or other cultural events, filling out their trio of scholars. Eve knew Jean planned on following Max’s lead by going on the lecture circuit after she reached her eligible retirement age at fifty—not too long after Eve graduated. It was a good way to remain a productive part of society, while traveling the country doing something you enjoyed.

  5

  Jean’s philosophy of doing something you enjoyed quickly grew on Eve as she blazed across the sky in the twin-engine Cessna. Blasting through the thick, white cumulus formations and bursting out the other side was one of her favorite aerial maneuvers. It gave Eve the same thrilling sensation one got from an amusement park rollercoaster ride.

  Plunging out of a large white pillow of puffed air, the Cessna continued downward in a dramatic nosedive. Eve could sense the ground rushing up on her in another exhilarating experience that was frightfully delightful. The objects on the ground began to take shape and form as Eve could make out the airport control tower and found herself overcome with an irresistible urge to break the rules by buzzing the tower. An old aviator tradition in which you flew in low over an object, dubbed a flyover, was something Eve always wanted to try. Considered a pilot’s rite of passage, it was also highly frowned upon.

  Eve started to level off less than five-hundred feet from the ground. Dropping down to one-hundred-fifty feet, she performed another favorite aerial maneuver, inverted flying, achieved by flipping over and flying upside-down.

  The sound of the Cessna’s engines caught Max and Jean’s attention, causing them to look up. Momentarily blinded by the sunlight, they shielded their eyes with raised hands over their brows as the outline of an oddly familiar image began to emerge from the hazy humidity of the sun. By the time they realized what Eve was doing, she was passing over their table waving down at them from her overturned perspective.

  In spontaneous gestures, Jean and Max returned Eve’s salient salutation with motioning hands and a furor of furrowed eyebrows as they watched her streak by and head toward the control tower.

  “I wish she wouldn’t do things like that.” Max disapproved of Eve’s cocky behavior, watching her roll the plane back over as she rose above and buzzed the control tower before ascending back into the blue, celestial ether.

  “She is just trying to impress you. Showing off her skills is the only way she knows how.” Jean excused and explained.

  “It is the only thing giving me concern going forward. She needs to learn the value of stealthy, inconspicuous actions in order to successfully navigate this perilous course we are setting her on,” Max said, revealing reservations.

  “You know that is not who she is, and also why it makes her the perfect choice. She does not know how to be false.”

  “Then we have a year to teach her how to lie. Today will start her first lesson. Learning how the hard truths in life can reveal the necessary evils of deception.” Max paused as he noticed an airport security officer approaching their table.

  “Excuse me, Miss Stephens,” a young man in his early twenties said. He wore a black DOS uniform, outfitted with a silver badge and a nametag pinned on his shirt pocket identifying him as Security Officer Harris Dove. He addressed Jean, ignoring Max. “I am sorry to disturb you, but I was just informed that hotdog pilot up there came with you. I have to warn you, if he pulls another stunt like that, not only will they ban him from the airport, there is a good chance the DOS will revoke his flying permit. I don’t want to cause you any trouble, it is just that they tend to take these things quite seriously around here,” Security Officer Dove said politely to the point, being firm in the delivery of his pertinent message.

  “Please excuse the pilot’s overzealous spirit. It must be hard to contain up there in the wide blue yonder. Do not worry, though, I will be sure to pass on your warning verbatim.” Jean apologized for Eve’s actions without correcting her gender to the officer.

  “I completely understand the situation, Miss Stephens. I can only imagine what it must be like to be all alone up there. But, rules are rules, I’m afraid. Thank you for your time, please enjoy the rest of your day.” Security Officer Dove acknowledged his own desire before proceeding on to other duties.

  “What a sweet, polite young man. He could have been much harder on Eve. Don’t you think, Max?” Jean asked once they were no longer in earshot.

  “Lamb’s breath with dragon’s teeth.” Max replied to Jean’s assessment. Max’s opinion of the DOS was not a very favorable one as his analogy likened them to beasts.<
br />
  Overseen by the Committee of Twelve Experts, the Department of Security was the largest division of the Twelve Departments of Government. The reach of the DOS extended wider than any other department with special branch divisions serving different needs. A protective warning system setup during the early days of reconstruction was still operational and under their authority. It gave DOS the means to impel any hostile intruders from foreign lands still capable of mounting offensive strikes. They also thwarted any expatriates, who refused to adapt to the New Society, from sneaking back into the country. After the masters of war were long gone, one of their most critical and primary duties was securing the vast amounts of abandoned military hardware and weaponry left behind in order to prevent it from falling into the wrong hands. They also needed to re-secure the lapsed safety features on over one-hundred-fifty of the nation’s nuclear power plants, updating protocols to prevent the reactors from melting down after long periods of unstable inertia. Getting the country up and running again took a lot more than simply switching the power back on. It required someone with the strength to make the harsh decisions and the means and will to carry them out to accomplish their noble cause, no matter the cost.

  Up in the air, Eve was thinking about the cost of her bravado, beginning to feel a sense of buyer’s remorse for her bold actions, knowing there might be consequences. She didn’t mind being punished for breaking the rules, reap what you sow sort of thing, pay the piper, but what she regretted most would be disappointing Jean and especially Max, who had become like a father to her with his protective nurturing and scholarly wisdom. She knew Max and Jean wanted to tell her something important. Something they said would bring about a great change in her life that she might not be prepared to accept, at least not right away. Eve was pretty sure she knew their big secret, and she would be happy for them if she turned to be right, even if they were breaking the law.

  “Houston Tower to Cessna 425, Houston Tower to Cessna 425, do you read me, over?” A stern voice crackled out of the radio headset speaker directly into Eve’s ear, accenting the need for an immediate response.

  “Cessna 425, calling Houston Tower, I hear you loud and clear. Sorry about that, fellows, I guess I went a little overboard back there. I give you my word, it won’t happen again, over.” Eve offered her humble apology with mentally crossed her fingers, hoping it would be enough to smooth things over.

  “Houston Tower to Cessna 425, you can bank on that one, honey.” A lump caught in Eve’s throat in fearful anticipation of what was coming next. “Around here you get only one strike before being counted out, not three, and you just had your one. So I strongly advise you to keep flying on the straight and narrow from now on, little black sheep. It is also time to start bringing it in for a landing, Cessna 425. Houston Tower, over.”

  “Acknowledged, over and out,” Eve said with a slight smile as a heavy sigh of relief escaped her before developing into a frown, not that much unlike a child just called in from the pool. Eve quickly thought of way to turn that frown upside down as she pushed the yoke forward and put the Cessna into another nose dive, heading right for a large cloud gathering.

  6

  The Peregrine flew high in the sky, just like Eve, only the falcon’s intentions were purely instinctual. The bird of prey had not eaten for days, and hunger was making it desperate for any morsel that came its way. So when it caught sight of a little starling flying all alone just below the clouds, its natural instincts took over. Swooping down at nearly one-hundred-seventy-five mph with its sharp talons ready to strike, its prey was unaware of the impending threat, until the falcon let out an inadvertent rasping scream.

  After falling behind his travelling brethren, the little starling was already cruising along in a state of nervous abandon. Alerted by the glimpse of a dark shadow passing over, the falcon’s high-pitch scream sent the small bird into full panic mode. A heart pumping rush of fear incited an unconventional, frantic reaction to avoid capture with a swift and sudden course change taking the falcon off guard. Instead of diving down to avoid the predator, following its natural instincts, the starling flew up in an accelerated, evasive move. The starling barely missed clipping the falcon’s beak as its talons clutched at vacant air. Darting straight up the edge of a cloudbank, the terrified starling fluttered its wings in a frenzied egress.

  Piqued by the error of giving away its position, the Peregrine was still determined to overtake and seize its quarry. Capable of moving at speeds of two hundred mph (making it the fastest creature on earth) catching up to the starling would take only a matter of seconds. Inopportunely, for the falcon, it was a couple of seconds too long.

  The roar of the turboprop engine bursting through the cloud offered only a slight warning before engulfing the falcon in its whirling propeller. Torn to bloody shreds, the bird of prey never knew what hit it. Feathers, bones, and pulverized flesh mangled and crunched up inside the engine, causing it to billow out black smoke, just before dying.

  The lucky little starling skirted over the cockpit to freedom.

  7

  Much like the falcon, Eve had no idea what she hit. Fortunately, she had more time to react to alter falling into a similar fate. It wasn’t much time, but might just be enough. The disabled left engine-wing dipped dramatically, putting the plane into an out of control tailspin with its right engine-wing thrown off balance.

  Remaining incredibly calm, Eve quickly ran through the emergency procedures in her head before calling the tower.

  “Cessna 425 to Houston Tower, I got a problem up here, Houston. I lost my left engine to a possible bird strike. I am presently spiraling downward somewhere over your position. You might want to alert the emergency response units in case what I am about to try doesn’t work, over.” Eve spoke in the same calm manner her mind and body were collectively working. No sense in panicking, it was unproductive and only made things worse. The best thing to do was to keep your head and do whatever you could to survive. The first thing one needed to conquer in any emergency situation was your own fear.

  “Houston Tower to Cessna 425, we understand your situation, emergency units are ready and standing by. What else can we do to help, over?”

  “Just keep your fingers crossed I will be able to restart the engine before hitting the ground, over and hopefully not out.”

  8

  Still in communication with the tower through the radio receiver clipped to his jacket pocket, Security Officer Dove exhibited a real sense of urgency in his hurried approach as he came rushing back over to Jean and Max. “Okay, tower, I will inform her of the situation, over.”

  Reaching their table, Security Officer Dove’s worried look spoke volumes in itself, triggering real concern in Jean and Max as they both stood up in alerted wariness.

  “What is it? What went wrong?” Jean asked in nervous anticipation.

  “Your pilot has lost one of his engines to a possible bird strike,” Dove explained before looking up to the sky.

  “Oh, no. Oh, please, no.” Jean said, also looking up to the sky, hoping for some miraculous outcome.

  Without realizing it, Max moved over and embraced Jean, taking her hand while putting his arm around her shoulder and pulling her close. “Hey, Jean, if anyone can defy gravity, it is our girl.” Max assured her before scanning the sky for any sign of the wayward plane.

  Up in the distance as far as the human eye could see, the three observers surveyed the unfettered, blue firmament from the ground, standing back to back with their necks wrenched up in desperate search.

  “There it is. I can see it.” Security Officer Dove shouted out as he pointed up to a falling, dark form starting to take shape.

  Jean clutched at her chest in response to the increased beating of her heart racing along with fear.

  Max fixed his gaze on the object spiraling downward. His mind locked in place with fevered thoughts calling out for Eve to triumph over adversity and find a way to survive life’s latest challenge.

&nbs
p; 9

  Inside the plummeting plane, the instrument panel gauges were spinning and rolling with the same velocity of the falling fuselage. Descending at a rate of five hundred feet for every three seconds, Eve calculated she had less than ten seconds to act. After determining she was in a counter-clockwise spin, she shut off the throttle, eliminating power to both engines to help to minimize the loss of altitude. By fully depressing the right rudder pedal, the rotation slowed down enough for her to stabilize the axis yaw and bring the Cessna into a level dive.

  And now for the hard part, Eve thought to herself as she went to restart the engine. Under normal working conditions, it wouldn’t be a problem, but things can get a little tricky with one engine out. The right engine roared to life with only a few seconds left to impact. Being careful not to stall, Eve slowly pulled back on the yoke, using the horizontal stabilizer to help bring the plane level.

  Coming down somewhere near the retro-lounge, the Cessna gained a frighteningly real clarity from on the ground. The three highly concerned, reluctant spectators watched in shocked awe as the plane gradually pulled out of its death dive, leveling off in extreme proximity to the retro-lounge’s roof. The fixed landing gear nearly scraped the edge of the roof before veering left toward the airstrip located behind the lounge.

  Approaching on an angle, the Cessna had to clear a few small planes parked along the runway before being able to come down for a straight landing. Skirting along the runway with split second timing, the landing gear hit the tarmac just as the little plane in the heading indicator gauge leveled off with the actual aircraft.

  Being on the ground did not guarantee a safe landing as the threat of flipping over from coming in too fast became a real possibility. With screeching brakes, the tires skidded down the runway, bouncing up and down on the tarmac. The little plane eventually came to a complete, safe stop, five hundred feet from the lounge.

  Max and Jean ran out ahead of Security Officer Dove, who stayed back to wave over the emergency vehicles, waiting at a safe distance from the potential crash site. Running ahead, Max led Jean by the hand, but started to feel her dragging on him as the Cessna’s side door opened downward to provide a stairway exit. Less than fifty feet from the plane, Jean’s legs would go no farther, preventing any further movement. She refused to let go of Max’s hand, causing him to halt in his tracks, too.

  Appearing in the doorway, Eve exited the plane in a manner of someone who just made a perfectly normal landing. Stopping at the bottom of the stairway, she raised her right hand high in the air to show her crossed fingers before proclaiming, “Any landing you can walk away from is a good one.” She stepped a few feet away from the plane and fainted dead away, falling forward onto the hard tarmac.

  The emergency crews arrived along with Security Officer Dove as Max and Jean ran over to Eve.

  10

  Looking up at the starry night sky, Eve felt just as lost in those stars as in all the words she heard since waking up on a couch in the retro-lounge with everybody standing over her. That was when all the words started pouring out in a rapid patter, ranging from a congratulatory praise for clear headed thinking in a crisis situation, to obligatory health concerns over post-traumatic stress or the bump on her head from fainting, and even an explanatory rendering of recently experienced events. It seemed like there were as many words as stars in the sky. But afterwards when they took her to that place, their words, like the brightest stars, illuminated an unknown darkness in her life.

  Riding home in quiet calm, Eve rested her head against the backseat window, still locked in heavy thought after a long day of adventurous, death-defying acts and startling, life-changing revelations. Jean sat up front next to Max sitting in the driver’s seat of his Ecoride sedan with the Autodrive engaged. Max and Jean planned the whole day as sort of a graduation present. But Eve also knew there was something else. Some hidden agenda, something important they wanted to tell her. Although, confident she knew what, and even though she turned out to be partially correct, if she had known the real purpose for the last stop on their trip, she might have taken them up on their offer to call it a day after her near miss at the airport.

  They took her to a red house in Antelope Valley, where the Prophet Warrior and General Cain settled the first town of New America in accordance with the precepts found in The Book of Tomorrows. Fifty miles southeast of the airport, the small town out in the middle of nowhere was the place where mankind rose from the ashes of our savage past and created a new civilization for our benevolent future.

  The red house brought on a feeling of déjà vu from the moment it came into view. Like a silent movie without the captions, vague childhood memories came flooding back to Eve in waves of moving picture images, triggered by an actual visual acuity.

  The first thing that caught her eye was a big, old tree with thick, reaching branches spreading out to make the hanging of a tire-rope-swing a natural fit. In one of Eve’s memory flashes, she saw a five-year-old girl swinging on the long gone swing in front of the California ranch house, newly renovated and setting alone at the end of the street. A jump cut flashed forward to an image of the little girl running to her mother standing on the entrance stoop calling her in for dinner. It wasn’t until she recognized the mother as her own, Eve realized, the little girl was she.

  As they pulled up in front of the house, Eve opened her door and hopped out before the car came to a complete stop. Exiting in a more customary manner, Max and Jean stepped out into the quiet, serene setting. After taking in her oddly familiar surroundings, Eve gave her devoted companions a supportive smile, indicating she approved of their sly, diversionary tactic and choose a safe, friendly environment to take someone into their confidence.

  “I take it this place brings back memories,” Max inquired. “You were very young last time you were here.”

  “This is where your parents lived when your father was training to become a pilot. There used to be a tire-rope-swing hanging from that big tree branch,” Jean said pointing to the barren limb, which had an imbedded groove from where the rope once hung. “You used to drive your mother crazy swinging as high as you could get, trying to find your father in the sky.”

  Eve impulsively gave the sky a cursory scan before catching herself. “It is like some distant memory coming to light.”

  Max came to appreciate the ease in which Eve adapted to change. “I know how you feel. This is where it all started for us. This is where I met your parents and Jean for the first time,” Max said as Jean moved closer and took his hand in hers. “Which is why Jean and I thought it would be a good place to confide something very important to you.”

  “We don’t mean to put you on the spot, but you must understand what is at stake, here.” Jean said.

  “Well, I don’t mean to steal away your thunder, but I am pretty sure I already know what you want to tell me, and I’m happy for the both of you, really I am.”

  Jean and Max tilted their heads toward each other with raised eyebrows and blushing cheeks before looking back to Eve with guilty smiles.

  “There is something we ought to explain to you.” Max attempted to clarify before being interrupted by another presumptuous statement of misunderstood meaning.

  “You don’t have to explain yourselves to me or anyone else for that matter. I understand the need for restraints on population growth, but I also believe their methods are too harsh. We have outgrown our need for unbridled sexual gratification. So why shouldn’t we allow responsible adults the freedom to find comfort in the arms of someone they love? Our brave new world needs to keep evolving along with the rest of nature.”

  “We certainly cannot deny your perceptive quality for seeing things as they actually are and heartily agree with your assessment of the SBP system, which is what we really came here to talk to you about.” Max told Eve while holding Jean close enough to feel the nervous tension coursing through her body. It was one thing to work out and plan for a specific goal, but the most strenuous tim
e always came right before the moment of truth when you laid your cards on the table and called the hand.

  Standing in front of the red house, Jean reached out to Eve, who walked over from the tree to take her hand. Jean’s pleading eyes seemed to beg for a patient refrain in judging what they were about to tell her. “We should go inside to sit down and talk?”

  Everyone silently agreed with Jean as they all headed into the house.

  Sitting at a round kitchen table taking it all in with a cup of tea in front of her, the thoughts racing through Eve’s mind ran the gambit from the plausible to the unthinkable. While she always had her doubts about whether the SBP system was still necessary (or if it ever was), and understood the motives behind the FWF, she never suspected Max and Jean were members. Yet being a part of the FWF rebellion was not a big stretch of the imagination. Their feelings were easy enough to comprehend, considering they were admitted lovers. But what really boggled her mind was when they told her about a recently discovered DNA sample linking the Prophet Warrior to a woman who died from a bee sting, and how the FWF wanted to arrange it so the SBP matched her to his only living heir. The FWF wanted Eve to raise their child covertly, and when old enough reveal the truth about the Prophet Warrior’s death.

  For years Eve heard the stories about how the Free Will Forever rebellion had been founded on a conspiracy of General Cain poisoning the Prophet Warrior in order to subvert power with a revised version of the New Constitution that limited the people’s free will. Now and again, as time goes by memories fade and are no longer seen in the same light in which they began. Most people outside the FWF, including Eve, never put much stock in the conspiracy theory or an heir to the Prophet Warrior being out there somewhere. It sounded more like the storyline from some epic fantasy novel, leading most people to the logical conclusion the FWF members only wanted to satisfy their lustful passions. To some in the FWF obtaining the right for sexual freedom became more of a cause than exposing lost truths, at least until a new hope was found with the DNA match.

  Eve’s own inclination to not only believe in their cause, but her willingness to join it, was what surprised her the most—only the deception factor gave her pause. The leaders of the movement wanted to take the extra precaution of keeping the truth from the heir, himself. They did not want him to know who he really was or whom she really was, unsure of how he would react, feeling he might be indoctrinated into the present system, already having cultivated some pretty important friends. But the real kicker to Eve was the suggestion from the top that it might be a good idea to take advantage of the two children per couple limit to increase the odds of a favorable outcome.

  Of all the things said, out of all the words spoken, the deception factor weighed most heavily on Eve’s conscience. How could they ask her to live a lie of that magnitude, to raise a child, or children, only to continue propagating this cruel perversion of truth? Wouldn’t that make them no better than what they were fighting against?

  She could not even begin to conceive of why they considered her a candidate in the first place. Someone who never longed for a SBP match, motherhood, or love, but also found herself strangely offended when Max and Jean said she was not the rebel groups first choice—although she was always theirs. The FWF had been grooming someone else since the discovery of a DNA match two years ago. So in answer to Eve’s question of why they were approaching her now, at this late date, Max offered a poetic perspective with a classic literary quote, saying, ‘even the best laid plans of mice and men are sometimes all for naught’. Someone high up in the government snatched up their original SBP recruit, which alone proved a bias in the system.

  As to why her, Max simply asked, “Do you remember the first time you saw me?”

  Eve did not have to think about it. The image still burned in her mind. “You were standing next to my parents the last time I saw them, the morning they left for Australia, the day I ran in late for the race. You were standing with my parents after the race, but you were gone when I went over to talk with them.”

  “Because from the moment I saw you sprint onto that track, I had seen all I needed to see. Your parents were right. You were very special back then, just like now.” Max said.

  More than anything else, she needed to hear this. So often she wanted to ask, but could not find the right moment, never knowing why or what stopped her, just that the unknown answer always frightened her for some reason, and she did not scare easy.

  “Did you recruit my parents into the FWF?” Eve asked after bravely finding her voice.

  Max raised an eyebrow while supporting a clever grin. “No, they recruited me.”

  The shocked look on Eve’s face expressed more than any words could, but Max attempted to find some.

  “Jean introduced me to your parents when I met her at the local grade school. She was a first grade English teacher and I was teaching basic math. One day we were talking in the cafeteria, and she asked me what I was doing hiding out here.”

  Max and Jean reached across the table and took each other’s hands in a loving hold.

  “I just could not see why someone with such an obvious intellect would choose to stay out here in the middle of nowhere when you had the credentials to be teaching at the college of your choice.” Jean said as she soulfully looked into Max’s eyes.

  Max smiled at Jean, patting his hand on top of hers, before looking over to Eve. “At the time, I did not know why, but I found myself opening up to Jean, someone I hardly knew, telling her things I never told anyone. Like when I was only five years old, someone high up in the DOS killed my father for being a suspected member of the FWF who tried to overthrow the government in 2145. And that my mother died shortly after, and why I blamed and hated my father along with the FWF. And how the SBP saved me by changing my name and setting me up with a family that suffered a miscarriage. Afterwards, Jean introduced me to your parents. She told me if I was willing to listen to what they had to say, it would change my life forever. And she was right,” Max insisted before turning his eyes back to Jean. “You saved my life. If not for you, I would still be living in my awakened dream reality.”

  “It has been my humble honor in knowing I found someone who could make a difference, just like I can see in you, Eve.” Jean praised them both. “Truth be told, it was your parents who opened both our eyes about our so-called perfect society.”

  “They were members since birth, like their parents and their parents before them—who helped found the FWF with the Good Doctor. I hate to be the one to have to tell you this, but it’s all true—the conspiracy, the SBP fraud, the government corruption, right down to the Prophet Warrior’s murder and the loss of his heir. Only, there is something else, something your parents stumbled upon before leaving that might have gotten them killed. I am sorry for having to hit you with all this right now. But unfortunately, time is of the essence. You should know how much your parents loved you, and how hard it was for them to leave you that way. I know this is a lot to take in, so take some time to think about your answer, just not too much time. But, whatever you decide, Jean and I want you to know the only answer you have to give us is a yes or a no. No one will ever question your decision or your loyalty.”

  11

  Riding home, still lost in all those stars, all those words, Eve could only think of one.

  “Yes.”