

### Bright Night Past Yesterday

### Book One: Forever Tomorrow

### Volume One: The Book of Tomorrows

### Alexander Ulysses Thor

Copyright 2014 Alexander Ulysses Thor

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

Copyrighted property of the author,

May not be reproduced, copied, and

Distributed for commercial

Or non-commercial purposes.

If you enjoyed this book,

Please encourage friends to read

The rest of this epic trilogy, available soon.

Thank you for your support.

The characters, incidents, and places either are

a product of The Author's imagination

or used fictitiously, any resemblance

to actual persons, living or dead,

business establishments, events,

or locales is entirely coincidental.

Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

About Author

" _What is a man,_

If the chief good and market of his time

Be but to sleep and feed?

A beast, no more.

Sure he that made us with such large discourse,

Looking before and after,

Gave us not that capability and godlike reason

To fust in us unused.

Now, whether it be bestial oblivion,

Or some craven scruple of thinking to precisely on th' event-

A thought which, quartered, hath but one part wisdom

And ever three parts coward--

I do not know why yet I live to say,

" _This thing's to do,"_

Sith I have cause, and will, and strength, and means to do it

William Shakespeare

Hamlet

There comes a time

When it becomes necessary

To dissolve the old ways

Connecting us to the past

And begin a new way of thinking that separates

Knowledge from Belief,

Truth from Myth,

The Laws of Nature from Faith in a Divine Presence,

So mankind can rise from the ashes

To once again assume among the powers of earth

And prosper from the inalienable right

That everyone is born equal and

Deserves the Liberty of Life, and the Pursuit of Happiness

The Prophet Warrior

Preamble to the New Constitution for a

New America, established May 6th 2090

# CHAPTER ONE

### SEXUALITY NOW

1

**Wednesday 9:00 a.m. May 5** th **2190**

The man stood waiting outside a museum. He was no ordinary man. Nor was it just any museum.

The man was important. Only he didn't know it, yet. Then again, he did not know much about himself, either. He knew his name, Michael Angel, but not a whole lot beyond that simple fact. Twenty-one-years-old, five-foot-ten, one-hundred-seventy-pounds, dressed in a reserved fashion, wearing a powder-blue pullover, fitted grey slacks, black leather shoes, and while not exactly handsome—nor ugly for that matter—he had a very congenial and relaxed manner, with a gold-tone complexion, light-brown hair, and a face sans of facial hair or even the hint of a five o'clock shadow. His dark brown eyes hid a deep, intense craving for knowledge. The thirst of which drove his very being. It fueled his ambiguous nature, motivating him to seek out his purpose in life. Why he is here, living in a world he felt he did not fit. As with his reason for being here today, waiting for someone he never met.

Michael didn't mind waiting, especially since this was one of his favorite places. It wasn't just any museum. To him, it represented everything worthwhile in the world—truth, beauty, knowledge—a guiding-light illuminating the dark tunnel through the past, which surprised him when she chose the meeting place.

The statue he stood next to, with a strange sense of pride, represented that guiding-light showing mankind how to rise from the ashes of yesterday's fires. Everyone had their heroes in life, that special someone who inspired them to be a better person because of what they have accomplished. And for many, that man was the Prophet Warrior.

Nobody knew where he came from. Or his real name, for that matter. Just that he came out of the wasteland armed with only a sword and The Book of Tomorrows—one of the last books written before the fall. No one knew anything about him, except that he knew. He knew how to lead the country out of chaos and disorder by shining that guiding-light on the awesome power of the written word, found in the pages of The Book of Tomorrows and taught at the end of a sword. The life-size monument memorializing the sad occasion of his death, one hundred years ago at the start of the New America he help rebuild, stood as a symbol to the peace and civilization the epitaph declared.

In Loving Memory of

THE PROPHET WARRIOR

Who came out of the darkness,

To show us the light of a New Day

Born in 2030—Died May 5th 2090

Finder of The Book of Tomorrows &

Author of the New Constitution for a

New America, established May 6th 2090

The statue was a magnificent work of art, exquisitely sculpted out of white marble stone. Bestowing such a remarkable likeness, it embodied an actual presence of being. Set on a three-foot pedestal, engraved with the epitaph, the six-foot statue rose in form and structure to reveal the man. His timeworn Stetson covered most of his long, scraggily hair, except that which flowed out underneath in curled marble stone. A heavy beard shifted focus to the finely chiseled facial features, where his penetrating gaze was still noticeable in the stone-carved eyes. The long leather coat, which along with his legendary sword and hat people came to identify him by, covered his entire body right down to his boots. The coveted Book of Tomorrows—the title etched on its cover, minus The Author's name—was in his right hand held tight to his chest, while his left rested on the hilt of his mighty sword with its powerful blade pointing down, standing sentinel.

Twenty schoolchildren on a fieldtrip walked past Michael. Escorted by their teacher, a sixty-year-old woman so dedicated to shaping young minds, she elected to continue teaching long after becoming eligible for occupational retirement. Her looks by no means revealed her real age and could easily pass for a woman in her early forties or younger. Still able to turn a head or two walking down the street, she could even feel a discerning gaze coming from the man standing next to the Prophet Warrior monument as the children flocked by the statue with their eyes all amazed.

"It certainly is a lovely day for a fieldtrip, Miss Laurence," a Dutch-boy-blonde, ten-year-old boy declared with childlike innocence beaming from his dark blue eyes. He, like all his classmates, would be starting high school next year and could earn a full college education by eighteen or training for any qualified skilled trade, providing a clear-cut path for every child's future.

"Like so many things today, we are truly indebted to the Prophet Warrior for showing us the way to a better living. Even though he left us much too soon, if not for him, we would never have had the opportunity to achieve the technology to save our planet," Miss Laurence replied then flashed Michael a quick smile.

"You mean things like the Shiteflowers that help restore the ozone layer by reducing greenhouse gasses and rebuilding the atmosphere, so we can have beautiful days like today," a dark haired girl with bright hazel eyes divulged a perceptional knowledge of how things worked.

"That is a very good example, Sally."

"But they don't smell so good," another schoolgirl added.

All the kids giggled as Michael pinched his nose closed while shaking his head in a mock gesture of pungent odor. Before moving her little troop forward, Michael exchanged smiles with Miss Laurence as he watched her escort her charges up the walkway leading to the museum entrance. The children followed two by two, boys and girls holding hands, and while not wearing school uniforms, their clothes were reserved, simple fashions with nothing outlandish or meant to call attention to the wearer.

Looking up from the children, Michael took in the splendor of the architectural design of the New America Museum of World History, Art, and Science. Serenely nestled on top of a high-rising, barren hillside, the museum had become one of the most popular tourist attractions in the nation's new capital—the District of Colorado. Three inter-layered, photovoltaic domes, constructed from gallium arsenide semi-conductor wafer panels, with self-generating power cells, converted the radiant solar energy into electricity. The environmentally superior technology generated and stored enough energy to operate the entire facility 24/7. It had no moving parts or harmful pollutants, and also had a high structural integrity. It was a reliable, independent power source used in the construction of businesses, residences, and all means of transportation, where applicable.

A large blue banner strewn over the museum entrance signified the centennial tribute of the once again thriving country. Printed in solarized neon lettering, it simply read:

In Celebration of

New America's 1st Centennial

2090-2190

Forever United Together In Everlasting Peace

As Miss Laurence led the children into the museum, Michael reflected back on his reason for being there, wondering if someone might have made a mistake with his SBP notification. Unsure of his own place in the world, he did not know if he was capable of taking on the awesome responsibility expected of him.

2

The Selected Breeding Program (SBP) was an added amendment to the New Constitution, instituted on September 13th 2091. The first Guardian Administrator Cain proposed the amendment, and the Committee of Twelve Experts ratified it as supreme law of the land.

When first starting over there was an attempt made to hold some traditional ways in place. The people were already facing a rapidly changing country—with re-aligning the still viable States into Five Territories of Providence, disavowing the authority of every conflicting belief system (whether based on religious or political ideologies) to void them of all power, and to ensure it, the elimination of wealth and currency by allocating a barter system for the mutual fair exchange of goods and services. Thus, it was deemed necessary for the people to retain the free will to choose their own lifestyles as long as the nation's citizens endeavored to act responsibly in matters of procreation and their sexuality. Providing of course, they did not jeopardize or restrict anyone else's pursuit of happiness. But after just one year of a drastic rise in sexually related crimes (rape, spousal abuse, hate crimes against homosexuals), along with unplanned pregnancies fueling the fear of a population growing too fast, combined with a moral indignation that could lead to greater violence, the line between rights and privileges blurred to the point where hard choices and harsh measures had to be implemented.

In accordance with the SBP method of procreation, selected subjects were between ages twenty to thirty-five, and matched through a Computer Compatibility Program (CCP), designed to find couples suited to each other physically, intellectually, and most importantly, fertilely. They did not force the arrangement on potential parents. A happy family environment was an essential ingredient to ensure the mother/father dynamic considered necessary to raise children properly. Matched couples deciding to stay together would move into a new home in a suburban community center reserved for SBP families and could have a civil wedding ceremony, if they wanted, while unselected men and women lived separately in townhouses or condos. Out of a familial sense of tradition, most SBP couples used their own namesake for their infants first and last name. The new parents then raised their child from birth to age fourteen. After which, the child moved on from parental guidance and primary education to a higher learning of his or her choice. Each couple could have two children, if they wanted, which included twins. Afterwards the man would usually get a voluntary vasectomy. Once their offspring journeyed out into the world, the couple could elect to stay together or separate to seek their own path, while still maintaining a relationship with their son and/or daughter.

All other forms of sexual intercourse (whether heterosexual or homosexual) and procreation outside of the SBP system were outlawed and severely punished in the form of banishment. While there was some resistance at first, the citizens of New America had little choice in the end, only able to form a few underground splinter groups with a David and Goliath complex—except David didn't have his slingshot this time around. Thomas Jefferson once said, _'A government big enough to give you everything you want, is big enough to take away everything you have'_. A statement never so clearly understood as in its current application.

Based on the belief this was not how it was supposed to be, Michael always had his doubts about the necessary validity of the SBP system. He never gave it too much thought, though, feeling they would never select him. So when he walked in his front door greeted to cheers of congratulations, Michael's surprise was quite genuine.

"There he is, the man of the hour," the friendly voice of Jacob Rose announced. He was a devilishly handsome young man of twenty-five and Michael's closest friend,

"Looks like you're moving up to the big leagues, fellow," reported the hard-graveled voice of Owen Sandy, a slightly pudgy, pre-maturely balding, twenty-nine-year-old bear of a man.

"You better hope she can cook, or you will be missing my culinary charms," claimed Warren Stacy, a twenty-seven-year-old man with dark hair and a goatee. He was wearing a chef's hat and apron, while stirring some unseen ingredients in a mixing bowl.

Everyone shook Michael's hand as he entered the room. "What's the hubbub all about?"

"If you haven't figured that out by now, why don't you step into the parlor and see for yourself," Jacob said while leading Michael with an arm around his shoulder into the large, spacious living room of the four-bedroom condo.

Much in the same way a fireplace used to catch the eye of someone entering a room, the 3-Dimensional, non-glasses, ultramodern CPU-HDTV wall unit was a definite eye-catcher. Although, if one did not know they were viewing a 3-D image, they might believe an actual boxing match was taking place in the living room as two fighters and a referee seemed to be dancing about in perfect clarity, with a cheering crowd in the background obscuring the giant monitor from view.

Taking in the boxing match with an arched eyebrow, a confused look crossed Michael's face. Owen snatched up the remote off a round-glass coffee table, and as if summoned by a genie, the fighters blinked out of the room, leaving the monitor flashing a congratulatory message across its five-foot screen.

CONGRATULATIONS

MICHAEL ANGEL

ON YOUR SBP NOTIFICATION

PLEASE SUBMIT TO A RETINAL SCAN

TO RECEIVE THE INFORMATION PACKET

ON YOUR SELECTED 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 clasped 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 hundreds 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 was 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 more 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."

# CHAPTER TWO

### THE WORLD ACCORDING TO CHAD

1

Tour guide Janet led everyone over to a large platform stage, where she stopped in front of four huge letters mounted on the wall. Embossed in a golden glow, the letters spelled out C-H-A-D. Janet ushered the spectators forward with a guiding arm as they made their way up the three steps of the platform stage. She then pressed a small red button located on top of what looked like a microphone on a stand, but was really a start button. Once freed from her appointed duty, Janet left to go on break.

The stage came alive with the lights of the universe projected on the walls, floor, and ceiling. Galaxies and stars engulfed everyone on stage, making them feel weightless as if floating in space. For the children, it must have felt akin to when fantasy and reality mixed into one for the first time, when early 20th century theater patrons saw that iconic locomotive engine come barreling straight at them from up on the big screen.

Looking around at the schoolchildren's awestruck faces, Michael leaned over and whispered into Eve's ear. "I feel like a kid, again."

"Me, too," Eve replied, squeezing his hand tighter.

A single star reflecting high up on the ceiling instantly got much brighter than the rest. The illuminated star beamed out in a resplendent, radiating light shining down on the captivated audience. Next, a deep, loud voice echoed out all around them. "Prepare to have your minds enlightened by the wonderful world according to CHAD."

With the blazing velocity of a streaking comet, the brightest star came crashing down to the stage, where it imploded into a sparkling, white glitter before taking shape and form as an animated, 3-Dimensional old man. Looking like a cross between Albert Einstein and the Monopoly Man, the four-foot cartoon caricature stood in the welcoming stance of a circus ringmaster, with his two short arms outstretched, top hat in hand, and coattails streaming behind. Despite his bushy, white mustache and frosty, spiked hair, the animated man exuded a veritable presence of life.

"Good morning, schoolchildren, Miss Laurence, and I see we have some old friends joining us on this lovely day with Michael and Eve. Glad you could come back for a visit," the animated old man's voice sprang out at a friendly, peppy volume as he marched back and forth making his introductory presentation.

Michael and Eve reflexively waved hello at the mention of their names, then giggled at themselves for doing so.

"And I am CHAD—a Complete History Archives Database. That is who and what I am, children. Because you see, right up here in this little noodle," CHAD explained while pointing to his animated head before continuing with his boastful march. "I hold the most comprehensive, the most abundant, the most accurate...well, let me just say it—the complete recorded knowledge of history since the beginning of time. And today, children, we are going to explore the origins of our existence to learn how the greatest mystery of life, is life itself. We will begin with an in-depth look at the creation of life to see how it evolved into us. Then, we will take a look at what we did with this gift, building great cities and civilizations, before our greed for wealth and power destroyed it all. We arrogantly believed that we were superior to every other living creature, including some of our own kind."

CHAD paused for a moment to let his audience take in his words of wisdom, which had a prideful exuberance to them.

"Now no one knows what came first in what I like to call the chicken or the egg scenario. Or more to our topic of discussion—did God create the universe and everything in it? Or did man create god to give a divine purpose to his existence? There is no way to know for sure. Until you die, that is. But, then you cannot tell anybody about it. So what I can tell you are the things we are ninety-nine percent certain of, but may never be able to prove. Once, it was a widely held belief God created the whole shebang in six days, rested on the seventh, and the earth was only as old as the Bible said it was—about six thousand years or so, depending on which version you read. Of course, no one ever said how long a day was. Could it have been a billion years? We do not know. No one does, which is where the controversy of inflexibly closed minds began, right at the start of time, itself. Arguing a day was only twenty-four hours, no more, no less."

At the end of CHAD'S remarks, the stars all blinked out of existence. Pitch black darkness engulfed everyone on stage, bringing about a chorus of "oohs" and "aahs" from the children. The darkness lasted for nearly a minute. Then, a distant, emerging white star let there be light, once more.

"The most accepted scientific explanation for the sequence of events leading to the creation of the cosmos supports the concept that the universe has been continuingly expanding from an extremely hot, dense state for close to thirteen billion years." CHAD continued while pointing up to the glowing white light.

"What created this initial hot, dense state or its origin—could it be a form of intelligent design or what we refer to as God crafting the beginning of all things—may never be known. What we can clarify through scientific method is the evolution of the universe from that point on in what has come to be known as The Big Bang Theory."

As if on cue, the distant star exploded.

"In the earliest phases of the Big Bang, the universe was expanding and cooling with a rapid progression and contained an incredibly high energy density, combined with extreme temperatures, and immense pressures. About a microsecond into the expansion, a bang within the bang caused a cosmic inflation in which the universe grew exponentially."

CHAD explained as waves of expanding space moved across the cosmos away from the initial explosion, followed instantly by a second explosion carrying newly forming galaxies past the astonished observers, who could feel phantom fluctuations in the air rushing by them.

"Afterwards, the universe was made up of elementary particles of quark-gluon plasma—matter and antimatter. But with temperatures so high, the random particles were constantly being created and destroyed in collisions. Then an unknown reaction occurred, called baryogenesis, resulting in a very small excess of matter over antimatter. As the universe continued to grow in size and fall in temperature, the quarks and gluons combined to form baryons of protons and neutrons, but none of their antiparticles remained. The same process happened with electrons and positrons, after which photons dominated the universe. A few minutes into the expansion, when the temperature was about a billion Kelvin, neutrons combined with protons to form the universe's deuterium and helium nuclei in a process called Big Bang nucleosynthesis. About 379,000 years later, the electrons and nuclei combined into atoms of mostly hydrogen. The leftover radiation continued throughout space as cosmic Microwave Background Radiation, which has helped scientists to pinpoint when the universe began. Dense regions of matter were gravitationally attracted to nearby matter and over a long period of time grew even denser, forming gas clouds, stars, galaxies, and other astronomical structures observable today."

With his words visualized in 3-D images floating around the fascinated onlookers, CHAD offered some clarifying statements on the differences of opinions that impeded the process in attaining scientific knowledge of our creation.

"The Big Bang Theory was first proposed in 1927 by Georges Lemaitre, a Belgian physicist and Roman Catholic priest, who called it the hypothesis of the primeval atom. It wasn't widely accepted for many years—mostly due to conflicting opinions, religious implications, and the lack of advances in telescope technology. And while we do not have time to explore the important research done by the many brilliant minds of their day, or else we would be here until you all graduated, please feel free to access our database for a complete history of time to learn how, depending on when you lived, if you would have been persecuted for your pursuit of scientific knowledge.

"After the Big Bang, a large rotating cloud of interstellar dust and gas composed of hydrogen and helium, called a solar nebular, formed our solar system."

Once again brought to life, CHAD'S words were in miraculous detail.

"Approximately nine billion years later, the solar nebular started to contract—more than likely induced by shock waves generated from an exploding supernova—impelling it into an accelerated, rotating momentum that caused it to flatten into a proto-planetary disk. Most of the concentrated mass in the middle heated up and mixed in with collisions of large debris to create proto-planets orbiting the center of the nebular. Through an increase in its rotational speed and the force of gravity, the solar nebula's center created a tremendous quantity of kinetic energy, causing a nuclear fusion of hydrogen into helium, which contracted and ignited a T Tauri star—our sun. As gravity drew in matter and condensed around the new star, the proto-planets separated into rings, including the third rock from the sun; Earth. Shortly after the formation of its initial crust, another proto-planet struck proto-earth, ejecting part of earth's mantle into space to form the moon. After the impact, the planet was thrown off its axis, producing the tilt responsible for the earth's four seasons—unique to our planet."

"Isn't it amazing?" Michael whispered to Eve.

"It looks so real," Eve replied.

Watching the sun, earth, and moon form, they stood alongside the amazed schoolchildren, whose bright, shiny faces reflected the wonderment in their eyes.

"In over its 4.5 billion year history, the earth has gone through many extreme geological and biological changes. Mankind has only come to dominate it for the past ten thousand years or so. Using this geologic time scale, you can see the many different stages in the earth's development."

The earth's surface transformed into the geological scale with a detailed timeline diagraming the planet's progression from creation to present, broken down into a system of chronological measurements known as eons, eras, and periods.

"During the Hadean, earth's first eon, the surface underwent an intense period of meteor showers, called the Late Heavy Bombardment. It began over four billion years ago and lasted until the end of the eon, two hundred thousand years later."

The earth transformed back to its early state to illustrate the meteorite showers pulverizing the surface.

"At the start of the Archean eon, 3.8 billion years ago, like a baby in a womb, the earth was covered with oceans, partly from degassing volcanoes, but mostly from impacting comets containing ice. The impacts enriched the earth with carbon dioxide, nitrogen, methane, ammonia, and water. As the planet cooled, rain clouds formed and created oceans. Primordial life began to evolve in the early Archean eon. Molecules gained the ability to copy themselves, forming replicator cells, called prokaryotes. Through the process of photosynthesis, which converts carbon dioxide into organic compounds using energy from sunlight, the cells were able to increase their metabolism and obtain more sustenance from the same food source.

"In the Proterozoic eon, remnants of early continental crust, known as cratons, grew into continents of large land masses. Released into air overtime, oxygen, a waste product of photosynthesis, enriched the upper atmosphere to form the ozone layer, which freed lifeforms from the water and allowed them to colonize the surface of the ocean and eventually land. Previously, ultraviolet radiation would destroy all life not protected by the water, and without the ozone layer, the development of more complex lifeforms, like prokaryotes into eukaryotes and multi-cellular forms, might never have happened. Around 2.3 billion years ago, the earth suffered the first of many vast ice ages so severe they created snowball earths, frozen over from both poles to the equator. This was more than likely a result of increased oxygen in the atmosphere causing a decrease in methane, a strong greenhouse gas, weakened by the high oxygen concentration."

The earth morphed into a giant ice ball, captivating the schoolchildren in awe as they absorbed the valuable knowledge like sponges soaking up water. Michael and Eve followed along reminiscent of a couple watching their favorite old movie.

"Throughout earth's history, continental drifts related to plate tectonics helped cause the formation and break-up of many supercontinents. Rodinia, the first supercontinent, formed about a billion years ago. Around the same time, the first multi-cellular plants formed when single cell lifeforms merged and became dependent on each other to survive. Within another hundred million years, the first animals evolved from the same process and probably resembled something similar to today's sponges. There were two more snowball earths during this time, along with some intense volcanic activity that resulted in the breaking up of the supercontinent. Rodinia broke up a hundred million years later, with most of the continental mass uniting around the South Pole by the end of the eon.

"Most of the time life evolved slowly, however, every once in a while there were unexpected dispersions of new species or mass extinctions. These bursts of evolution were usually the aftermath of dramatic shifts in the environment from meteor impacts, climate change, or other natural disasters. The start of the Paleozoic era, five-hundred-forty-two million years ago, was such a time as the Cambrian explosion witnessed the appearance of many new species, unprecedented in its time before or since. The development of hard body parts—shells, skeletons, or exoskeletons in arthropod animals akin to Mollusks—made fossil preservation possible and them easier to identify than their ancestors."

"What is the difference between eons and eras?" the dark hair girl who mentioned the Shiteflowers back at the Prophet Warrior monument asked.

"A very good question, Sally, one few ask. As a matter of fact, last time someone asked that particular question he was your age. Perhaps you would be kind enough to edify our little band of knowledge seekers, Michael."

Feeling a bit embarrassed by the sudden attention, Michael found his voice and presented his wisdom on the subject.

"Eons are at least half a billion years or more, and there are four of them. Eras are several hundred million years each, and there are twelve in total."

"Very good, Michael, I can tell you have been keeping up with your studies. Because you see, children, during our time together, I can only give you the scientific conclusions of the most accepted evidence available. Of course, there will always be differences of opinion on how to interpret the data. This is why you must always remember to think for yourselves, do your own research, check the facts, and even draw new conclusion from improved data not available in the past. Great minds are born every day, and it is up to you to seek your own destiny and to make a difference." CHAD offered them an equally important lesson as the one they were already learning, before continuing with the tour.

"The earliest vertebrate animals appeared during the Cambrian period, with the first fish evolving about five-hundred-thirty million years ago. When the first animals migrated to land, is not exactly clear. Evidence suggests arthropods, invertebrate animals with segmented body parts and jointed appendages, colonized land some eighty million years later. With the ozone layer acting as a protective shield, organisms making it to land were more likely to survive by developing the ability to adapt to their new environment. In between the Cambrian and the succeeding Ordovician period, a mass extinction took place that wiped out many of the new lifeforms. But over the next one-hundred-fifty million years, more diverse species arose that were better suited to their surroundings. The first four-legged animals, called tetrapods, evolved from fish, probably through a process of limbs forming from fins. Considered to be the origin of amphibians, it allowed them to breach the surface and breathe air. They eventually conformed to terrestrial life, only returning to the water to lay eggs, but overtime developed an amniotic egg, laid on land. When plants obtained the ability to generate seeds, they spread out across the land, turning the earth into a tropical swamp inhabited by enormous insects and early reptiles. Pangaea, the last supercontinent, also formed during this period.

"At the end of the Paleozoic era two-hundred-fifty million years ago, the most severe extinction event took place as volcanic eruptions persisted for over a million years, wiping out ninety-five percent of all lifeforms." CHAD paused a moment to note the children's astonished faces. "I can see by the looks in your innocent, young eyes it is difficult to understand how life could have ever survived on our volatile planet. Trust me, life will always find a way. It perseveres under the most traumatic circumstances, and sometimes-even flourishes as the dinosaurs did.

"During the Mesozoic era, dinosaurs split off from their archosaurian ancestors in the Triassic period. They eventually became the dominant terrestrial vertebrates for the next one-hundred-sixty million years. Primitive dinosaurs were small bipedal predators that continued to evolve after two more extinction events, which also spared pterosaurs (flying dinosaurs) crocodylomorphs, turtles, and some small shrew-like mammals restricted by size and niches. After the second extinction event in the early Jurassic period, two-hundred million years ago, dinosaurs evolved into diverse and varied groups. As the supercontinent Pangaea started to break up, it spread them out worldwide.

"Dinosaurs would soon be present on every continent, comprised of many different terrestrial habitats, called faunas. Although known for the large size of some species, most dinosaurs were human size or smaller. They could be herbivores or carnivores. Some were bipedal and some quadrupedal, while others could switch between either body postures."

As CHAD described the distinctions of species, a cavalcade of computer-generated prehistoric beasts (some big, some small) paraded across the stage in front of the awestruck audience.

"Herbivorous sauropods, like the popular Brontosaurus and Brachiosaurus, were gigantic even by dinosaurs' standards." Two of the massive creatures strolled by, dwarfing the amazed onlookers. "Some dinosaurs—the Triceratops, Protoceratops, and Stegosaurus—developed elaborate skeleton modifications with horns, crests, and or bony armor used to attack or defend against predators." All of which followed the sauropods.

"Avian dinosaurs, like the pterodactyls, became the dominant flying vertebrates." Two of the winged species soared over the stage. "Fossil records indicate birds evolved from dinosaurs around one-hundred-fifty million years ago, and most paleontologists regard them as their only ancestors living today.

"And of course, the favorite of many dinosaur enthusiasts since the discovery of their fossilized remains, the king of the carnivorous predators, the Tyrannosaurus—more commonly known as the T. Rex—became the most recognizable of the monstrous creatures due to the fierce nature of the beast." A loud roar echoed out, shortly followed by a second as two of the large predators made their way across stage.

"Dinosaurs get their namesake from the Greek words _deinos saurs_ , which roughly translates to 'terrible lizard', a term coined by paleontologist Richard Owen in 1842. For many years, people thought dinosaurs were dumb, sluggish, coldblooded animals. But after further review, it became the consensus of scientific opinion they were active, intelligent creatures, exhibiting behavior of social interaction, possibly traveling in herds for protection from predator pack-hunters, like the velociraptor. Also, the discovery of ancient nesting grounds indicates care of young after giving birth, along with new evidence showing some might have been warm-blooded and thrived in cooler climates.

"In the Cretaceous period, flowering angiosperm plants became a major part of the ecological system, replacing previously dominating gymnosperm plants. This metamorphosis in plant life caused a great upheaval in the dietary needs of most herbivores unable to adapt to the new food source. Their failure to diversify doomed them to extinction—like the Stegosaurus, which appears to have died off around then. Even if they managed survive the new conditions, their efforts would have been in vain as the rest of their brethren soon followed them.

"The death knell for the dinosaurs exploded with the same sudden fury in which life began with the Cretaceous-Tertiary extinction event wiping out their species sixty-five million years ago. A general consensus was reached that an impact event from a meteorite, approximately six miles wide, struck the earth somewhere near the Yucatan Peninsula in Mexico. And while the meteor impact is believed to be the primary cause, other factors may have contributed, like severe climate change and a failure to adapt to the new plant life that was already putting a strain on the dinosaurs' harmony with nature."

As CHAD finished his sentence, a comet blazed across the stage trailing the path of the dinosaurs in a fiery ball of flames and crashed into the animated horizon they were heading.

"Afterwards, life on the planet would have been extremely difficult as vast amounts of particle matter and vapor ejected into the air blocked out the sun and prevented photosynthesis. Whatever caused their extinction (except for the birds), the only other survivors were varied species of lizards, snakes, crocodilians, and some small mammals—who's time to dominate was on the new horizon."

Once again, the stage faded into darkness as the startled spectators felt the blackness creeping in all around them. Signaling the dawn of a new day, a rising sun appeared on the horizon bringing life back to the battered planet.

"At the start of the Cenozoic era, life on earth was marked by great changes in the climate, flora, and fauna as the continents continued to drift toward their current positions. The planet appeared much different than today. Still connected to Greenland, Europe was in the process of separating from North America—joined to Asia by a land bridge. The continental movement continued to play havoc on the environment creating warmer temperatures worldwide and giving rise to thick tropical jungles (including the first rain forest), along with ice-free Polar Regions. Without any dinosaurs to graze upon the land, the flora grew denser as modern plant species like Cacti and Palm trees appeared. The flowering florae co-evolved with the insects pollinating the plants as they fed on them. Birds also evolved considerably during this time changing to roughly modern species, like perching birds; cranes, hawks, pelicans, herons, owls, ducks, pigeons, loons, and woodpeckers, including some large, carnivorous, flightless birds—long since extinct. Even though reptiles were more widely distributed over the globe with the climate giving way to warmer seas and producing an abundance of marine life, this period is most notable for being the time when mammals evolved from relatively small creatures into a larger group of diverse animals dominating the land."

As CHAD described what was happening, the stage divided into two sections. The wall in front of them turned into a map of the world illustrating the continental movement, while the floor, ceiling, and the open space around them transformed into the changing landscape showing the continuing evolution of life on the planet.

"When mammals first appeared in the Triassic period, they were small rodent-type creatures living in insect-rich underbrush or high-up in the trees. These survivors of the mass extinction, considered primitive, archaic mammals, had not yet developed specialized teeth or limbs and also had a low ratio of brain to body mass. Around fifty-five million years ago, the first modern mammals evolved, however, dwarf forms still reigned. The most successful and diverse group were placental mammals, whose members included hoofed animals of various species (consisting of both carnivores and herbivores) and long thin-legged primates with feet and hands capable of griping things, in addition to the growth of differentiated teeth for chewing. Woodlands spanned from pole to pole, including polar forests with palm trees as far north as Alaska, giving way to numerous habitats capable of supporting the new faunas. Then a cooling period began over the next twenty million years, bringing about the Earth's seasonal changes. It marked a transitional time from the archaic world of tropical forests to a more modern ecosystem, culminating with a major extinction event around thirty-five million years ago, called the Grand Coupure or Great Break. Most likely caused by one or more meteor impacts, it coincided with an abrupt climate change after South America broke off from Antarctica, allowing the Antarctic Circumpolar current to flow freely, rapidly cooling the continent. Tropical and sub-tropical forests died off as seasonal woodlands, open plains, desert regions, and the expansion of grasslands took their place. The turnovers in flora made it possible for animals to grow larger than earlier groups, including horses, camels, rhinoceroses, along with more modern marine fauna like whales and sharks."

CHAD'S words continued to be recreated as the amazed viewers watched the floor transform from tropical forests to deserts, open plains, and vast seasonal woodlands, corresponding with the evolution of life on land and at sea and in the air. Early primates, horses and other hoofed animals, along with the new marine life, morphed into more evolved states.

"Over the next thirty million years, Brown algae, called kelp, provided a fresh food source for marine fauna, supporting new sea life from otters, to sea lions, to seals, to early dolphins, plus a variety of fish. With the continents still drifting toward their present positions, mountain building took place, creating wondrous ranges like the Andes and Alps. The continental drift also formed a land bridge linking North America to South America, called the Isthmus of Panama, making possible a great land migration of formerly isolated species. Mammals became more identifiable by regions they came to dominate with the appearance of dogs, raccoons, beavers, deer, pigs, bears, elephants, cows, hyenas, antelopes, giraffes, kangaroos, and now extinct saber-toothed cats, wooly mammoths, and mastodons. The creation of the Isthmus of Panama also led to extreme changes in the climate. With the warm equatorial ocean currents being cutoff, the extremely cold arctic and Antarctic waters lowered the temperature of the Atlantic Ocean, signaling the beginning of repeated glacial cycles, known as Ice Ages. It is believed as much as thirty percent of the earth's surface was covered in ice, with the glacial effect being global."

The map of the world displayed the connecting link between North America and South America forming as the stage gave way to migrating prehistoric beasts making their way over a frozen landscape. The room temperature actually dropped to a chilly degree, allowing the spectators a tangible perception.

"During this time, there were about a hundred species of apes living all over the globe, varying in sizes, diet, and anatomy. Molecular evidence indicates around six million years ago humans branched off from their last common ancestor, the chimpanzee—to whom their DNA is ninety-eight percent identical. The first recognizable hominid genus, Homo habilis, appeared about two million years ago in Africa. Many species of the genus Homo evolved that are now extinct, except for one. The first humans to walk upright and gain the ability to control fire was Homo erectus, who evolved around eight-hundred-thousand years ago and migrated throughout much of the world, giving rise to many different variations of prehistoric man. Around four hundred thousand years ago, Neanderthals were the first humans to show signs of spirituality by burying their dead with tools, food, and other artifacts. Homo sapiens evolved in Africa about two-hundred-thousand years later and began migrating out between seventy and fifty thousand years ago, eventually replacing other existing hominids in Europe and Asia."

A vivid 3-D recreation of the standard scale of the evolution of man appeared, showing the earliest homo genus, Hablis, all the way to and ending with Homo sapiens.

"The Latin translation for Homo sapiens essentially means 'human intelligence', which is only appropriate considering the great steps forward they took over their predecessors. An expansion of the skull accommodated for a larger brain size, leading to the development of elaborate stone utensil use, along with the evolutionary growth of opposable thumbs making the crafting and handling of tools possible. Until around forty thousand years ago, human technology progressed stepwise with each Homo species starting at a higher level than the previous one. At that time, a Great Leap Forward occurred as modern humans developed sophisticated hunting techniques, like trapping animals in pits or driving them off cliffs. They fashioned clothes out of the hides using bones for needles and buttons. Other examples of exhibiting human behavior included early forms of art expressed in cave paintings, jewelry crafting, and stone figurines, possibly used for spiritual worship. There is also evidence of organized living spaces, exploring less hospitable areas, and even engaging in barter and trade.

"Using mitochondrial DNA, researchers have concluded that all species of the Homo genus are descended from a single woman in Africa, dubbed mitochondrial Eve." CHAD winked over to Eve, who blushed at the mention of her name.

Michael whispered in Eve's ear as he squeezed her hand he had been holding since tour began. "Guess I have been matched to someone with superior genes. Do you think my DNA might be as impressive?"

Finding the astute nature of Michael's statement too hard to suppress, Eve inadvertently blurted out a silly girlish giggle she meant to keep to herself. "Pardon, me," she said after realizing everyone was looking at her.

"That is quite all right, my dear. Life often holds a strange irony that applies to all our lives." CHAD said as the ancient female of name appeared before them and started mingling among the different geneses of beguiled primitive men. "The Out of Africa theory has been a hotly debated area of paleoanthropology for maintaining the concept that mankind first evolved in Africa before migrating out into the rest of the world. However, unless this is your field of study, we can leave those questions for other scientific minds to ponder. We will just continue with the most accepted theory, since it is not relative to our purpose here, today. Because, in the end. It does not matter where humans evolved to become the dominant life form on the planet. The main point is we did evolve. We survived.

"The ice age ended between twelve and ten thousand years ago depending on the regions affected by the climate. With the continents in place, the rising sea levels doomed many species that were unable to adapt to their environment to extinction. Large mammals—mammoths, mastodons, and saber-toothed cats—died off worldwide, replaced with coldblooded animals, migratory birds, and smaller, swifter mammals, while North America experienced the elimination of native horses and camels.

"Along with the prehistoric mega-fauna, all species of hominids became extinct during this period, except Homo sapiens, who have proven to be the most resilient of survivors."

Many of the prehistoric beasts faded away with the less fortunate species of humans as modern mammals and Homo sapiens continued to thrive.

"Throughout over ninety percent of their history Homo sapiens lived in small, nomadic groups of hunter-gathers. They sought sustenance by gathering plants and hunting animals, more than likely living in an egalitarian society. Then with the development of language, mankind gained the ability to remember more and communicate complex information, easing the transition into the Agricultural Revolution, which also led to the end of man's first society.

"In the Fertile Crescent of the Middle East between 8,000 and 7,000 BC, humans began the systematic husbandry of plants and animals, including the domestication of dogs used for either herding or hunting. Agriculture soon spread to neighboring areas and even developed independently in other regions as needs dictated, until most humans lived as farmers in permanent settlements near life-sustaining bodies of water."

The stage converted from campsites and cave dwellings to agricultural farming communities with growing crops and grazing livestock.

"Food surpluses allowed communities to expand and governing classes to form, creating divisions of labor, which resulted in a dramatic surge of social inequality. As landowner's increased their possessions, a hierarchal society arose to exert a firm control over those who came to depend on it. Agriculture became the lifeblood of cities that grew out of the earth to become the heart in the center of the surrounding countryside. Feeding off of harvested crops and raised livestock, cities provided trade goods, manufactured products, security for its citizens' livelihood, and protection from hostile forces. With more free time to pursue higher knowledge, many people benefited from the opportunity by creating and cultivating revolutionary inventions to help make their lives easier, instead of applying all ones efforts to avoid becoming part of the food chain."

2

"Boys and girls, this concludes the first part of our tour on the origins of life. We are now going to explore how mankind has used this gift for both Good and Evil. And by analyzing the fable of Cain and Abel, we can uncover two defining moments in history. The Bible story of the two sons of Adam and Eve represents a key moment in time as the first recorded murder. It also serves as an allegorical metaphor for the time when agriculture replaced the ways of the hunter-gather. Cain, a crop farmer, killed his brother Abel, a shepherd, when God showed favor to his brother's offering over his."

The rural setting everyone seemed to be occupying disappeared as the stage returned to its normal condition, with the exception of the world map stretched out across the wall. CHAD sauntered over to the map in a continued bravado of pride, his pie pipered legion of followers falling in line behind him. Stepping up to the wall, CHAD pointed to the map and started to explain its features.

"With the next stop on our journey through time, I am pleased to tell you about one of the more recent updates to our system, or better yet, maybe I should let the designer. Michael, would you be so kind?"

Again, Michael felt a bit embarrassed by the unexpected attention. Eve gave him an encouraging nod as he released her hand for the first time since the tour began.

"It was just an idea I had one day while studying for finals. I thought how helpful it would be to have a country's entire history available in an interactive database that could be accessed from a map at the touch of a finger, kind of like having your own personal CHAD."

Michael could have sworn he actually saw the animated man blush.

"I'm not telling them anything they don't already know. The Touch & Go program has been a standard feature on school maps for the past three years. I just thought it up and let the technicians do all the hard work."

"Please, demonstrate your idea for us, Michael," CHAD said with a prideful smile. "I am sure you remember where our presentation resumes."

"I believe we left off in what was once dubbed the cradle of civilization. So if we go to the map, touch the section of the Middle East, formerly known as Iraq, an information directory will pop up." Michael explained as a window box popped up on the map with a directory listing the four main categories:

1.) ARCHEOLOGY & GEOLOGY

2.) CIVILIZATIONS & CULTURES

3.) DATES & TIMELINES

4.) FAUNA & FLORA

"If you touch one of the main categories, you get another list of subjects to choose from. For example, I will press DATES & TIMELINES, and you get a chronology of every civilization, kingdom, empire, monarchy, or dictatorship ever built in the region. Starting around 3500 BC in Ancient Mesopotamia with the Sumerian Kings, considered the first civilization, to the Akkadian Empire, which lasted from 2300 BC to 2200 BC, or the Babylonian Empire between 1728 BC to 1531 BC, all the way up to the beginning of the Ottoman Empire in 1533 BC and its end in 1918 AD, which led to the rise of the Kingdom of Iraq in 1932, and a good place for CHAD to resume today's lesson."

"Thank you, Michael. That was very informative." CHAD acknowledged Michael's helpful participation, who felt inclined to give a short bow after the children started clapping along with their teacher, CHAD, and Eve.

Returning to Eve, Michael automatically took hold of her waiting hand.

"An oddly appropriate place to continue the tour," CHAD added. "Since this area of the Middle East not only represents where civilization began, it is also where it affectively ended. A nuclear wasteland since the end of World War III, this region of the globe is where mankind developed the technologies that separated modern man from his primitive ancestors. We can trace the origin of writing back to the Agricultural Revolution. The list of Sumerian Kings in cuneiform syllabic script marked the beginning of recorded history. It also revealed the true power of the written word, which along with inventions such as the potter's wheel and other advances in tool making utensils, gave man the ability to dominate the land and his fellow man as well."

An example of the list of Sumerian Kings appeared on the wall of the world map.

"Systems of control were needed to maintain order among the people subjected to the ruling class of landowners. Over many years, a family's inherited wealth created nobilities passed down from generation to generation. As landowners grew more powerful, kingdoms arose and fought each other for control of more land, power, and ultimately rule over mankind. But powerful monarchies alone were not enough to keep the will of the people faithful to their kings, especially when all power and wealth is fleeting, often dependent on one's strength to keep it.

"The greatest system of control ever conceived over the minds of men rests in his belief in a higher power. Having blind faith in a divine presence essentially provided man with a righteous cause to fight, kill, or die for, whether in justly fought battles for survival or wars devised for the greedy manipulations of kingly profits. The tricky part to interpreting the history of mankind is what I refer to as the Human Factor. You see, when calculating the age of the planet, for instance, there are certain geological measurements applied to the equation used to formulate the most accurate data attainable. But when you add in the Human Factor history is as much fable as it is fact. Someone once said all history is a lie agreed upon, but more often than not, it relies primarily on who is telling the story as to what version may be set forth as true. Some countries and empires have even tried to erase all records of their most notorious leaders, until another tarnished ruler came along who needed someone worse to compare himself to by saying, 'at least I am not as bad as that guy'.

"The lies of history were never more egregiously clear and piously practiced than where religion is concerned. Evidence of early man's belief in an afterlife dates back to the Stone Age, but throughout his existence who or what he worshipped has varied with a diversity of deities and religious ceremonies. Truth or myth, the lessons we learn from the past do not necessarily rely on the story being accurate or a fabricated fable. The profoundly omnipresent and allegorical lesson established from the belief in myths, either in pagan gods or a single divinity, can be more significant than the actual facts of the matter. Blind faith in dogmatic piety guided men's minds, spawning a morally misguided impetus to condone horrendous crimes against humanity in the name of their god or gods. A prime example of this distortion of historical facts and spiritual beliefs is the biblical story of the Book of Moses and the Exodus out of Egypt.

"In the Old Testament, Moses led the Israelites from the bondage of slavery after Yahweh, their 'one true God', inflicted the Ten Plagues on Egypt, ending with the death of the firstborn male child of every household not protected by the mark of lamb's blood on their door. After the death of Pharaoh Ramesses' II firstborn son, Moses was allowed to lead the Israelites to the Promise Land the Lord vowed would one day be theirs." CHAD explained.

"According to biblical history, not to be confused with actual history, Moses and his people spent thirty-eight years in the desert. At first, they fled Pharaoh's army after Ramesses decided on a vengeful rebuke for the death of his son. But through purportedly divine intervention his army was annihilated at the Sea of Reeds."

The world map displayed on the wall vanished and was quickly replaced by a scene from the 20th century film of _The Ten Commandments_ showing Charlton Heston as Moses parting the Red Sea, shortly followed by walls of water crashing down on the Egyptian army. The film continued to show scenes in synch with CHAD'S words.

"After miraculously escaping the Pharaoh's wrath, Divine Intervention continued to aid the Israelites on their long journey with the burning bush speaking to Moses on Mt. Sinai, where God carved out the Ten Commandments—his Tablets of Law. However, the Lord could be an angry God when man doubted His word, telling Moses he could not enter the Promise Land after he questioned the Lord. Nor were any of the first generation who left Egypt, because upon reaching Canaan, they refused to go on after scouts reported there were giants living in their Promise Land. Before his death Moses named his apprentice, Joshua, leader of the people, and as a reward for being one of the only original scouts to bring back a positive report, the Lord permitted him to enter the Promise Land. Although, the Lord might have neglected to mention there were Canaanites already living in their Promised Land, who did not pray to the same god as the Israelites, and had no plans to leave without a fight.

"The first battle for control of Canaan was in Jericho, whereas quoted from the Book of Joshua, _"they utterly destroyed all that was in the city, both men and women, young and old, and ox, and sheep, and ass, with the edge of the sword."._ Now there is no historical or archeological proof any of these events ever took place. Historians could not even agree on when it all happened. But in this case, when or if do not matter. It is the important precedent set by these fables that guided, influenced, and condoned the actions of self-righteous future generations, who thought themselves wiser and more civilized than their ancestors. Strongly motivated by his greed for power in this world, man has always sought ways to ensure himself an exalted place in the next one. "

A lost and dejected look seemed to overwhelm the animated man as he spoke in a soft, mournful tone.

"It saddens me to think words like slavery, rape, murder, and especially genocide ever had to be invented."

Quizzical Sally walked up to CHAD and attempted to put her hand on his shoulder to console him, but only passed through air.

"Don't be sad, CHAD. It's a beautiful world now."

"You are a very sweet girl, Sally. What you do not understand, it was a beautiful world then, too. We just took it for granted, something we must fear to never do again."

Miss Laurence stepped up behind Sally, actually being able to place her hands on the young girl's shoulders, and gave praise to her student. "Sally is one of our brightest students."

"I am sure she will do many great things with her life." CHAD said before getting back to the history tour, which started to turn into more of a diatribe.

"Whereas the first civilizations developed independently, the countries originating from them (Egypt, Persia, and Greece) blossomed into empires controlling large territories and had major influences on the different cultures they spawned."

CHAD went over to the wall as it transformed back into the map of the world. Using the Touch and Go application, he tapped his animated finger on the country of Greece, causing the information box to pop up. He then hit the CULTURE category and another list, though much longer, appeared as CHAD began to consolidate historic events.

"Ancient Greece was comprised of several hundred, mostly independent, city states and is considered to be the seminal culture providing the foundations for Western civilization. The long list of contributions the Greeks gave the world were lasting, grand achievements that are still the basis for many practices used today. They established the first democracy in Athens, truly put to the test by King Leonidas and his 300 Spartans, who fought to the death in 480 BC at the Battle of Thermopylae to remain free from the reign of Xerxes, the Persia king bent on dominating the world. But it was Ancient Greek art, and not Persian, that spread out across the land, particularly in form of architecture and sculpture. The teachings of Greek philosophers, Socrates, Plato, and Aristotle, still provoke contemplative thoughts on modern day philosophy. It was Hippocrates, a Greek physician called the father of medicine, who made many important discoveries and was the founder of the Hippocratic School of medicine all doctors swear an oath to uphold. Even their economy prospered from having a well-educated society, which deduced the fundamental rules of mathematics, along with the development of astronomy and basic geometry. Using an alphabetic script, a Greek playwright named Aeschylus forever changed the way we write plays with the introduction of interacting characters exchanging dialogue, thereby creating...drama. And ever since, the written word has given men the power to rule the world. Right from the start, great works of literature, such as Homer's Iliad and the Odyssey, inspired dreams of grandeur in historic figures like Alexander the Great, whose mother deluded his mind with tales of how he was the son of Zeus, the mighty Greek god, which led to his unwavering obsession to conquer the known world."

CHAD touched the MYTHOLOGY category in the CULTURE section, and a list of Greek gods from the Titans to the Olympians appeared. CHAD then touched the OLYMPIAN category, but instead of another list, several sparkling lights started glimmering over the heads of the surprised onlookers that began taking shape in form of the Ancient Greek gods from Apollo to Zeus.

"Throughout time, all history, especially Greek, has been strongly mixed with religious myths and legendary sagas. We can literally trace a direct lineage of Western Civilization through the famous mythological fables passed down over the centuries, beginning with the face that launched a thousand ships during the Trojan War, to the founding of Rome with the tale of Romulus and Remus, and onto the rise of Europe from the ashes of a fallen Rome with the legend of King Arthur and his Knights of the Round Table in Camelot."

The hovering Greek gods faded away, replaced by images depicting the Trojan horse used to infiltrate the city, the sacking and burning of Troy, refugees fleeing the lost city, and the death of Achilles with an arrow through his heel.

"Many years after the Trojan War the legend of Romulus and Remus was born. Descendants of the Trojan prince, Aeneas, who escaped Troy to settle in Italy, Romulus and Remus were twin brothers left in the woods to die by their jealous uncle. They were found by a she-wolf, who suckled and cared for them. Once restored to their regal birthright, the brothers acquired many followers and planned on building a grand city. However, a dispute over its location left Remus mysteriously killed. Romulus named his city Rome. He then proceeded to abduct women from neighboring tribes to populate it. He created the Roman legions, established the Roman senate, settled the Seven Hills of Rome, and waged war for two decades to expand Rome's territory, until his own suspicious death, possibly at the hands of the Senate—almost seven hundred years before Julius Caesar."

The images of Troy disappeared, replaced by ancient artworks illustrating the origin story of the famous twins and their Roman legacy. The visual images moved along in coordination with CHAD'S description of events. The scenes revealed were pictures of ancient artifacts, famous artworks, and legendary ruins, including some 20th century film clips.

"Founded as a kingdom, Rome was ruled by seven Roman kings for almost two-hundred-fifty years, before turning into a Republic in 509 BC, which then outlawed tyranny and waged wars for the next five hundred years to continue expanding their territory. By 83 BC, Rome found itself embroiled in the first of three civil wars, culminating in the fall of the Republic and the rise of the Roman Empire. Lucius Cornelius Sulla was a gifted general, who possessed the cunning and courage to make him an ideal ruler. He never lost a battle and won the first civil war. And even though he was named dictator after marching his armies on Rome, he used his authority to enact reforms to restore the balance of power between the nobility and the people, and then stunned the Roman world by resigning his power and retiring to private life—which is not to say, he couldn't be ruthless. While in total control of the city, he had all those he perceived to be enemies of the state executed. One of his intended targets was a young Julius Caesar, who only escaped death with the aid of some of Sulla's supporters. In the end, Sulla was said to regret sparing Caesar's life, because he felt the young man dangerously ambitious and warned of a possible tyrant lurking inside him."

A famous bronze statue of Julius Caesar in full military dress appeared on the wall map in a projected image of the infamous dictator.

"Sulla's warning turned out to be quite prophetic. Caesar marched his troops on Rome when ordered to stand trial for treason by the Senate and his old friend, Pompey Magnus. Pompey feared Caesar's conquest of Gaul left him a powerfully rich and ambitious man. After defeating his armies, Caesar pursued Pompey to Egypt. In an ill-advised effort to appease Caesar, they executed Pompey on order of Ptolemy XIII, the child pharaoh of Egypt. Angered by the pharaoh's arrogance, Caesar sided with Cleopatra, the pharaoh's sister wife, immersed in her own civil war with her brother. Victorious once again, Caesar left Cleopatra to rule Egypt and was rumored to have had a son with her, named Caesarian. Upon returning to Rome in 44 BC, the Senators proclaimed Caesar dictator for life, shortly before stabbing him to death on the senate floor. Hoping to restore the Republic, the unforeseen result of their action directly led to the rise of the Roman Empire and a third civil war.

"Octavian—Caesar's adopted heir—formed an uneasy alliance with Mark Antony—Caesar's top general—to hunt down the Brutus led assassins forced to flee the city from the wrath of an angry mob. After defeating Caesar's assassins, the peace between Octavian and Antony soured when Antony allied himself with Cleopatra in Egypt. Octavian, much like his adoptive father, was victorious in the end. Antony and Cleopatra committed suicide, leaving Octavian the sole ruler of what would become the Roman Empire and him the first Emperor. He took the adopted name of Caesar and the title Augustus in 27 BC (which is where the month of August comes from as with July being a form of Julius). Considered the best of all the Roman Emperors, Augustus' reign, called Pax Romana, was renown as time of Roman Peace. He ruled until his death in 14 AD. Unfortunately, a blood lineage of ruthless tyrants succeeded him, forever staining the memory of Rome with the blood of the innocent."

Famous paintings and sculptures of historic events and rulers flashed up on the giant wall screen, depicting everything from the assassination of Julius Caesar, the Battle of Actium, plus several sculptured busts of Julius Caesar, Cleopatra, and Mark Antony.

"Augustus was succeeded by his stepson, Tiberius, whose early reign of peaceful years enriched the treasury. Overtime, Tiberius became an increasingly paranoid ruler, who began a series of treason trials and executions. He eventually removed himself to the island of Capri, where lurid tales abounded about sexually deviant behavior and brutal cruelty, damaging the emperor's reputation to the point where the people rejoiced at the news of his death in 37 AD.

"Followed by his grandnephew, Caligula Caesar started out beloved by the people for ending Tiberius' paranoid persecutions, but a near fatal illness in all probability left him mentally deranged. Caligula rapidly turned into one of the most infamous and hated rulers ever as his brief reign of homicidal terror, extravagant living, and unrivaled debauchery led to his bloody death at the hands of his commander of the guard and Senatorial conspirators, who once again hoped to restore the Republic. The conspirators plot failed as the Praetorian Guard installed Claudius, the only member of the imperial family left to be emperor, since both Tiberius and Caligula considered him an idiot weakling and no serious threat. Despite his disabilities, Claudius proved to be an able ruler. He conquered Britain and improved much of the city's infrastructure. He was, more than likely, poisoned by his ambitious fourth wife, who had high aspiration for her son, Nero. While his controlling, power-hungry mother might have been instrumental in Nero becoming Emperor in 54 AD, she did not get to enjoy the fruits of her labor for long. Nero's intense hatred of his mother led to her violent murder five years into his reign. Regardless of the Romans passing a law to erase all memory of his existence, we know Nero as one of history's most notorious rulers, who once savagely kicked his pregnant wife to death in a fit of anger."

Historical depictions of the ancient Roman rulers materialized before the eyes of CHAD'S eager learners. Busts and statues of some of Rome's most infamous Emperors appeared in various states of decay or demolition, like a headless statue of Nero.

"According to the Gospels, it was during the reign of Rome's first five Emperors when Jesus Christ of Nazareth was born and spread the word of God, his father, before being crucified for our sins. Some of his followers, known as the Twelve Apostles, continued to spread his message of peace and love through Christianity. The apostles held faith in the belief that one day Jesus would return to save them from the torments they suffered under the Romans until 313 AD, when Emperor Constantine ended the persecutions after converting to Christianity. Almost one hundred years before the fall of Rome in 476 AD, Emperor Theodosius enacted a law establishing Christianity as the official religion of Rome. While the once powerful Roman Empire crumbled when the city fell seize to Germanic barbarian hordes, Christianity grew into the world's largest religion with the belief in Jesus Christ as the son of God eventually changing the way we counted time. First devised by a monk in 525 AD, the BC/AD (Before Christ & After Death) system did not become more widely used until 731 AD, when the Venerable Bede came up with the method of counting the years Before Christ. In 1492, Portugal was the last Western European country to switch over. However, many years later the use of BCE or Before Current Era and CE for Current Era was adopted by scientists due to the religious connotations BC/AD denoted in what had become of more secular world, at least in the logical realm of scientific communities."

Displayed across the wall scenes from the life and death of Jesus replaced the Roman Emperors with some famous artworks from the past.

"Much like the story of Moses leading the great Exodus out of Egypt, there are no historical records to prove or disprove what happened to Jesus of Nazareth. The belief in the divinity of Christ has been the subject of much debate since the day he was born, something else disputed by scholars and theologians, alike. The great divide among believers and non-believers rested in the conviction that Jesus was the son of God, which is not even the truly miraculous part of his story. As so often happens in matters of monumental importance, the people focused on the messenger, instead of his visionary message."

CHAD appeared to ponder a thought or two before continuing.

"Maybe, if people believed Jesus was just a man—a very wise man, but still a man—someone able to grasp ahold of the true meaning of life while living in a backward time and such a strange land, his message could have reached the whole nation, without spawning a mass confusion of conflicting belief systems used to justify man's greedy pursuit of power and glory. Don't get me wrong, but if the simple words meant to promote peace and harmony could be converted into a complicated paradox of thoughts to protect the power and wealth men used to gain the world, then they truly lost the meaning of their messiah's words and their own salvation, too.

"After the fall of Rome, the Catholic Church converted into a very powerful political player throughout Europe in form of the Holy Roman Empire. First becoming visible after Pope Leo persuaded Attila the Hun not to sack Rome in 452 AD, even though Attila's decision to turn back was more likely due to the toll disease and famine took on his army. Soon the great hypocrisy of religious wars spread out across the land. Fought in the name of God to justify conquests of foreign territories, they arrogantly forced the conquered pagan tribes to convert to Christianity by instituting a death penalty for all those who refused. The corruptibility of power is absolute in its nature. Onetime persecuted for their beliefs by the Romans, some Christians continued the pattern by oppressing heathen pagans and even fellow believers. The Catholic's assertions of the Pope's authority as the leader of the church created a great divide among Christians who rejected the supremacy and infallibility of the Papacy. This ultimately led to a split from the church with the self-exiled followers establishing the Eastern Orthodox Church. The splintering would continue over the years into several different denominations."

The stage flooded with light, the world map disappeared, and the room returned to its normal appearance. CHAD stood directly in front of his class of knowledge seekers, emitting a serious presence of someone now wanting to solicit information.

"I would like everyone to take a minute to ponder a simple question. How do you think Jesus would feel if he had lived to see what had become of his church?" CHAD asked.

After raising her little hand, Sally spoke with a maturity beyond her more advanced and learned years would even suggest. "I do not think he would be very happy how his followers squandered the beautiful gift of knowledge he gave his life for."

"You are a very perceptive young lady. I do not think he would be very happy, either."

"Is that why The Author of The Book of Tomorrows remains unknown?" Sally asked with another reflexive raise of her hand going up almost in unison with her words.

"Because of the time in which it was written, just before the fall of what we refer to as our Old Civilization, historical records from then are quite rare. So we do not know if The Author's anonymity was by design or circumstance. Unfortunately, much like the Prophet Warrior there is a scarce amount of background information about the person we know only as The Author, other than where he was living when he wrote The Book of Tomorrows. But since most of Old California is outside the Safe Zone and a very dangerous place to travel, I am incapable of correctly answering your important query. And for that, my dear, I am sorry."

"That's okay CHAD. Maybe we are better off not knowing."

"Maybe we are, Sally. Maybe we are. But let us not concern ourselves with things we may never know and get back to the things we do. Like the third historical fable connecting our ancestral lineage to the rise of Western Civilization, from Greece to Rome to England and the legend of Arthur, King of the Britons. In a time known as the Dark Ages, the fall of the Roman Empire gave way to barbarian invaders conquering most of Rome's abandoned territories left undefended. Born out chaos, the origin of three Western countries (Spain, France, and England) each rose up like a Phoenix from the ashes of a fallen Rome to become dominating world powers in their own right and time."

With a snap of his animated fingers, the lights dimmed once more and the map of the world returned to its wall canvas projecting the grand design for all to gander and surmise. Moving over to the map, CHAD quickly tapped out a few commands on the Touch & Go screen menu, highlighting the countries under the current topic of discussion.

As CHAD pointed out England on the map and started to explain the connecting links to the origin story of King Arthur, Michael's thoughts began to wonder from the telling of a familiar tale onto one yet to unfold. Although he could still hear CHAD telling how the deeds of Arthur (the Roman-British general who defeated Anglo-Saxon invaders in the 5th Century, then established the Kingdom of England) were rooted more in legend than fact, Michael's mind was preoccupied contemplating thoughts about being a good father. It all seemed to hit home when the thought struck him how proud it would make him to have a daughter as bright and full of life as little Sally. He practically blocked out CHAD'S continuing history lesson linking legend to literature with Geoffry of Manmouth's 12th Century _History of the Kings of Britain_ , and then onto the more magical and popular 15th Century retelling, called _Le Morte d'Arthur,_ by Sir Thomas Malory, which became the standard for future stories.

By the time Michael turned his ponderous mind from thoughtful scenarios of a lifetime devoted to nurturing a child within a loving family environment and back to the tutorial, CHAD had covered the entire Dark Ages, during which the blight upon the land was not only brought about by foreign conquers, but also from great famines and deathly plagues; and how countries like Spain, France, and England survived their hostile aggressors to become great nations, not through forceful suppression of their enemies, but rather by religious conversion of the pagan tribes; a system of control that would prove not only fruitless, but more an impelling rallying call for Islamic raiders, who gained control of Spain and the cherished Holy Lands in the Middle East at the start of the 8th Century; which in 1096 led to the first of nine Crusades, resulting in over two hundred years of bloody massacres, merciless victories, and brutal defeats, with power shifting struggles ultimately ending in abject failure for both military campaigns and in a moral hypocrisy that forever stained the offending faiths; but the power struggles did not end in faraway lands as religious abuses, internal conflicts, and territorial disputes still reigned supreme in the homelands, with many kingdoms desperate to stabilize their nearly bankrupt economies after long costly foreign wars; and how countries like Spain would find an influx of wealth through the exploration for profitable trade routes with the discovery of the Americas in the New World, making Spain a dominant power in Europe for the next two centuries.

As Michael came out of his self-imposed, contemplative trance, he turned his full attention back to CHAD, who was pontificating on what he called..."One of the strangest twists of fate in European history would have to be the extreme measures taken by King Henry VIII to ensure the legacy of his crown with a male heir. After marrying Catherine of Argon (his dead brother's wife), the king of England broke off his alliance with the Holy Church of Rome when the Pope refused to annul his marriage so he could marry his mistress, Anne Bolen. While Catherine was the beloved daughter of Queen Isabella of Spain and Anne Bolen was mostly despised by the people as the king's concubine, both of them fell out of favor with the king by committing the same grievous sin of giving birth to only daughters, Mary and Elizabeth, respectively—a sin which ultimately cost Anne her head. Although Henry VIII did have a son with his third wife (who he let die in childbirth), it is the morally divergent reigns of his two daughters that are remembered the most. From the womb of his good Catholic wife, Catherine, came the spawn of fiery retribution whose short, fearsome reign forever branded her Bloody Mary. And as for the supposed demon seed of the king's concubine, Elizabeth's time on the throne lasted five years longer than her infamous father's and was called the Golden Age, with England becoming a dominating world power for centuries to come."

Hans Holbein's famous painting of the oft-married English king stood out in the middle of two equally noted recreations of his queen daughters flanking Henry VIII'S grandiose stature with telling portraits, revealing Mary's harsh demeanor on his left and Elizabeth's regal presence on his right.

Sally stepped forward with her head tilted back. Her eyes shifted from side to side, unable to focus on an image. She seemed to be pondering upon another important question, but instead offered a rather rhetorical observation. "It does not matter, does it? A woman could be just as ruthless a ruler as a man or just as gracious, maybe even better, if she can remain true to herself, like Queen Elizabeth did."

"How very astute of you, Sally," CHAD commended her insight before elaborating further. "Throughout history, those who strayed from their true selves oftentimes found bad result occurring from their good intentions, and the discovery of the Americas was such a time. Although famously credited with the discovery (another historic fable that used to be taught to children), the closest Christopher Columbus ever came to North America was Hispaniola—modern day Haiti and the Dominican Republic. The real truth of matter, he was arrested, put on trial, and convicted for inhumane acts of violence against the indigenous people, which even included some of the settlers from his term as Governor. Sentenced to prison, his benefactor, King Ferdinand of Spain, eventually freed him. Not the great discoverer or hero they used to teach about, but rather another despot ruler corrupted by power and glory.

"After a Papal intervention, Spain and Portugal pretty much owned the early days of exploration when the Treaty of Tordesillas in 1494 presumptuously divided the world between the two countries. In the treaty, Spain was essentially granted the Northern Hemisphere, which consisted of North America and the Caribbean Islands, while the Southern half of the world went to Portugal, receiving South America, Africa, and Asia. The first Europeans to set foot in North America were the Spanish Conquistadores, when Ponce de Leon came upon what he initially believed to be an island and named it La Florida in 1513. Spain and Portugal took full advantage of the treaty as they began to explore the Americas searching for silver and gold, but settled for slaves when disappointed by their early finds in the island areas. It was not until moving inland they found the wealth so eagerly sought in abundant amounts of gold. First, Cortez conquered the Aztec empire in Mexico by 1521, richly rewarding Spain, and within ten years, Portugal's conquest of the Inca Empire in Peru greatly increased their treasury.

"While the native tribes were no match for the foreign invaders, their demise was greatly influenced by the devastating effects of European diseases like smallpox, which the indigenous populations had no immune system to combat such a formidable foe. There were many countries willing to ignore the treaty, except Spain's dominance of the oceans inhibited their efforts. It wasn't until after the English defeated the invading Spanish Armada in 1588—leading to the decline of Spain with the inept Habsburg regime bankrupting the country—that the seas opened up for England, France, and Denmark to search for riches in the New World. In time, England rose up to become the leading world power, unbeatable at home or abroad. Nevertheless, even the mighty British Empire would find itself on the losing side after the American colonies grew into a strong, independent nation."

The wall screen changed from representations of English monarchs to Italian, Spanish, and Portuguese explorers, showing images of conquered native empires, illustrating the rise of the British Empire with the defeat of the Spanish Armada, and depicting the colonization of the New World. Moving along with the continual momentum of the history lesson, the visual elements transformed in accordance with CHAD'S derisive monologue.

"During the 17th century, thirteen American colonies formed from British, Dutch, and Swedish settlements, ultimately all falling under English rule. Much like with the early Spanish explorers stricken with hardships from disease and starvation, the settlers depended on the friendly natives to survive before turning against them. The American colonies were unique in the world, divergent from Europe where monarchies, aristocrats, and the established church governed and ruled. Made up from many different cultures, the colonies were a place where everyone had a say in making political decisions. They based their government on a Republican ideology of equal rights, and this independent spirit would be the framework for colonial resistance to British rule of taxation without representation.

"Ironically, thirteen years after the French Indian War, when receiving France's North American territories after signing the Treaty of Paris in 1763, England decided to exert more control over its thirteen colonies, with entirely contrasting results. By enacting unjust laws, they incited the colonist to form the United States of America and start the Revolutionary War with the signing of the Declaration of Independence on July 4th 1776. After suffering through grueling winters, small pox epidemics, and a superior military power, the colonists finally won their independence and instituted the United States Constitution and the Bill of Rights, guaranteeing everyone what Thomas Jefferson called the inalienable rights to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. Which only continued the ironic nature of history after America was torn asunder by its own Civil War, fought over States rights to keep slaves!"

As CHAD finished expounding upon the strange twists of fate throughout history, the wall screen paused from flashing images of the Founding Fathers' fight for freedom and displayed copies of the Declaration of Independence, the Constitution, and the Bill of Rights.

Once again, Sally stepped forward and pointed out her thoughtful observations. "There seems to be quite a few similarities between the ideas put forth in these original documents and our New Constitution."

"And you would be correct in saying so, Sally," CHAD agreed. "When the Prophet Warrior wrote the New Constitution based on principles learned from The Book of Tomorrows, he knew we could not just blindly dismiss all the good mankind accomplished over the years. Instead, they incorporated all the morally good, common sense values into our new civilization, while leaving out any prejudicially negative beliefs once used to breed a nobility of hate that was predominantly responsible for our downfall. The old saying about how 'you don't want to throw out the baby with the bathwater', I believe will give you a little more perspective on what our recent ancestors were faced with when rebuilding a new world from the shambles of the old. While drastic changes had to be implemented to prevent a repeat of past mistakes, the Prophet Warrior knew certain truths would always be absolute, which he preserved in the foundation of our new society." CHAD explained.

"Of course, after the tour, you are more than welcome to view our New Constitution located right here in our Modern History section. Regrettably, the original has been lost in the nuclear wasteland that was once our nation's capital."

Michael's thoughts started to stray again, only this time his mind wandered towards an early exit from the tour, and thanks to Constitution Sally, he was just given an ideal excuse to leave. It wasn't because he didn't appreciate American history, just the opposite. It was the most inspirational time in mankind's growth as a species, creating a place where the individual rights of its citizens served as the strong foundation that built America, but also where it almost ended. At the height of all our accomplishments, the 21st century should have been a time to celebrate our place as a leading nation, instead of being the most shameful time in American history, something that always depressed Michael.

Not wanting to spoil the mood, Michael was about to lean over to ask Eve about leaving, when he felt her soft breath whisper in his ear. "What do you say we go take a look at the New Constitution? Then go get something to eat before heading back."

"You must be a mind reader. I was just about to suggest the same thing."

Eve smiled along with Michael, pleased he also wanted to get going. Only her reason for leaving was different from his.

CHAD also took notice of the young, would-be couple and offered them an easy out. "Of course, our two guests are free to carry on with their special day. I am sure they have other interests besides history to talk about, and I do tend to get a little long-winded."

"Though it has been a wonderful trip down memory lane, we should get heading back," Michael said with a pleasant smile.

"Don't worry about us missing out on anything. We will be sure to stop by the Modern History Section before leaving." Eve said.

"You would not want to deny yourself the pleasure one gets from viewing such a monumentally important document," CHAD said.

As Michael and Eve exited stage left, CHAD carried on with his mission to educate the young.

"Now where did we leave off? At the beginning of the 19th century, the United States of America started to expand across the land after the Louisiana Purchase in 1803 allowed settlers to travel west to seek their fortunes, and the Monroe Doctrine in 1823 prevented foreign powers from claiming American territories, truly making it our country. Arriving in unison with that pioneer spirit, the Industrial Revolution brought with it substantial public works projects in the vein of the Erie Canal and innovating inventions—the cotton gin, the telegraph, and the railroad—that helped connect and divide the nation.

"But the prosperity for some Americans came at the high cost of freedom for others. The Indian Removal Act of 1830 led to the deaths of thousands of Native Americans along the Trail of Tears, and within thirty years, the African slave trade increased by 2.5 million, due to the South's need for plantation workers. While a moral outrage was brewing in the Northern States with abolitionist newspapers, the hypocrisy of living in a free country started to boil over after a Connecticut schoolteacher's anti-slavery novel, _Uncle Tom's Cabin_ , became the best-selling book since the Bible. It inspired women to protest the Fugitive Slave Law that allowed slave-owners to reclaim their property anywhere in the country. Only five weeks after Abraham Lincoln was elected the Sixteenth President, eleven slave states seceded to form the Confederate States of America in 1861, igniting a bloody Civil War over the next four years, nearly tearing the nation apart forever."

Before continuing, CHAD paused to take an imaginary breath. He glanced at Michael and Eve leaving as Eve shot a look back over her shoulder, giving CHAD a sly wink that Michael didn't notice.

Still too caught up in history to notice, Michael went through the rest of the tour in his head. It was like a favorite, old book he read over and over again. The problem was he wished the story had a better ending, knowing the big difference between truth and fiction was that fiction had to make sense. How America went from being an economic global power manufacturing and supplying much of the world's trade goods at the start of the 20th century, to a morally corrupt and bankrupt nation heavily responsible for the events leading to the end of the old civilization barely a quarter of the way into the 21st century, just did not make sense.

After the defeat of the Confederate South ended the Civil War, the Reconstruction Era began with the abolishment of slavery and the re-admittance of the once rebellious southern states. Within the first three decades of the 1900's, we went from boom to bust. The discovery of oil led to affordable cars and the manufacturing of inexpensive steel to great cities that scraped the sky, while modern marvels connected the nation through electric lights and a transcontinental railroad. Nevertheless, we soon found ourselves immersed in the human frailty of repeating past mistakes. Lost in our search for wealth and power, we brought about the Great Depression and our eventual demise. Sometimes even our good intentions spawned opportunities for wrong to prevail as it did with the 18th Amendment. Enacted on January 16th 1919, the Volstead Act basically served up organized crime the murderously profitable gift of Prohibition.

After we reluctantly got involved in the First World War, which destroyed many of the old European empires and monarchies, our hand was forced the second time around. Still recovering from the stock market crash of 1929 and the subsequent years of economic depression, with the only aid coming from government-sponsored programs in FDR'S New Deal, the surprise attack on Pearl Harbor woke up the sleeping giant. Soon after the world felt our mighty roar in the form of devastating atomic blasts, forever reshaping the way we fought wars. Using the Red Scare of Communism, we found new enemies lurking in dark corners. Thought to be a great threat to our capitalist democracy, we gave our enemy a new face with the rise of the Soviet Union as the only other military superpower. These fears led to a forty-year nuclear standoff and near annihilation during the Cuban Missile Crisis.

The Cold War did bring about two modern day military crusades in an attempt to prevent the spread of communist rule throughout East Asia in the war torn countries of Korea and Vietnam, with each conflict ending in colossal failure. The assassination of President Kennedy and other high profile political leaders brought about the social protests of the Sixties and Seventies, giving birth to a counterculture crying out for civil rights, while protesting against forcing the senseless sacrifice of American sons fighting a very unpopular military conflict in a faraway land.

Michael always thought the real tipping point for the loss of faith in the government was when two reporters broke the story that brought down a corrupt President and all his men with their coverage of the Watergate break-in. Nothing was the same after that. As the information age was born, some journalists, filmmakers, musicians, and authors attempted to enlighten a disenfranchised public filled with nothing but apathy for a broken system. Unfortunately, the nation was open to the mechanizations of corporate power players left unchecked and eager to fill their coffers. The contagious nature of greed spread out in the Eighties infecting the Me Generation riding a wave of materialistic pursuits all the way into the valley of silicon in the Nineties, when technology advanced the methods of creating wealth to the point where the bubble finally burst. The 21st century turned into the Disinformation Age as the split between conservative and liberal agendas led to a stolen election with catastrophic consequences. The terror unleashed by fanatical religious zealots on September 11th 2001 influenced our fear-induced response to the vicious, unprovoked attack, and became the catalytic reaction that would lead to the end of our old civilization.

The sad story of our downfall began with a promise of great hope, which always depressed Michael and the real reason why he did not want to stay for the conclusion of the tour. A small sigh of relief escaped him as he entered the Modern History Section with Eve at his side unaware of his mental battle to get his mind out of the past. But, it was as if the story took on a life of its own and demanded an ending, even a tragic one. And like most tragedies, a villainous plot comes to fruition before collapsing on the purveyors heads. Of course, there was always a doomed sympathetic main character—to which a liberal President of mixed Hispanic-African-American heritage, seeking a second term after overcoming a political minefield of opposition in restoring the fading respect of our nation to its people and the rest of the world before his assassination, definitely fit the part. Since every story needs a villain, and ruthlessly ambitious political opponents usually made great ones, an extreme Right-Wing, conservative female Governor from Montana (who managed to capture the public's attention through a heavy façade of a down-home country gal, 'just trying to help out') heartily rose to the occasion, setting forth a series of treacherous schemes that elevated her into the Oval Office. Fraudulently packaged, she proved to be no more than a Presidential meat puppet with corporate Godfathers pulling her strings so they could increase their control over oil reserves in the Middle East by blaming them for the previous President's assassination. It wasn't until a conspiracy implicated the New President in the death of the old one that the walls came crumbling down, throwing the world into total chaos. Soon wars raged all over the globe, at home and abroad. And just when we were on the brink of wiping away all signs of our existence, something diabolically miraculous happened. A crazed environmentalist's deadly virus killed off half of the world's population, devastating man's ability to wage war, and in the process preserved our remaining natural resources. The Environmentalist committed suicide during a video manifesto he streamed live on the internet. Clearly infected by it, he confessed to creating the virus, taking responsibility for the desperate act, but not its conception.

It always bothered Michael the last unsolved mystery behind mankind's downfall was not that the insane plan actually worked, but where the idea came from to do it. A feeling of having just opened his eyes overcame him, along with the realization he never shut them. So lost in contemplative thought, he did not notice walking past the portraits of famous figures from recent history that lined the walls of the Modern History Section and was startled to find himself standing in front of the New Constitution display.

"Is something wrong?" Eve asked after feeling Michael's faint shudder.

"Oh, no, just caught up in the past, I guess."

"The world has a way of reminding us of the important things we should never forget." Eve pointed out.

"It's just a shame we tend to ignore those instinctual memories embedded in our genetic make-up."

"It is nice to have reminders, though." Eve nodded to the display case.

Michael fixed his eyes on the new and improved founding document with words of wisdom written by a rouge warrior destined to become a wandering prophet who would one day unearth The Book of Tomorrows and save the human race from extinction.

THE NEW CONSITITUTION

FOR

A NEW AMERICA

There comes a time when it becomes necessary to dissolve

The old ways connecting us to the past

And begin a new way of thinking that separates

Knowledge from Belief,

Truth from Myth,

The Laws of Nature from Faith in a Divine Presence,

So mankind can rise from the ashes

To once again assume among the powers of earth

And prosper from the inalienable right

That everyone is born equal and

Deserves the Liberty of Life, and the Pursuit of Happiness

Therefore, a new society, a new beginning,

Cannot solely be founded on

The moral doctrines or structured legislature

Of any legal institution, system of belief, or form of government

Responsible for past atrocities against mankind

Through either religious persecution,

Administrative corruption, the bonds of slavery,

Or any other form of oppression inflicted on man or woman,

At any time throughout our history

However, we will not abandon

Any positive contributions from the past

Proven compatible with present conditions and surroundings,

And no matter what harsh measures

We may take to prosper over the land,

We will no longer be beasts that just sleep and feed

And shall endeavor as a species to treat each other

With the same decency and respect we all deserve,

Not because we are told to do so,

But because it is the right thing to do

Thereby, giving us the cause, the will, the strength,

And the means to find our purpose

Forever united together in everlasting peace.

With these precepts in heart and mind,

We will start anew and rebuild

Our nation on the following:

FIVE KEY PRINCIPALS FOR SURVIVAL

**1.** Equality for All: reserving our right to freedom of speech, a free press, and the right to assemble peaceably, no form of discrimination, racial prejudice, or harmful protest will be tolerated, granted inherent excuse, or considered acceptable behavior on part of any citizen living in New America.

**2.** No Wealth/No Currency: will be printed or minted, nor will any citizen accumulate or create any form of legal tender for payment of service, or for barter of trade, or used to amass personal fortunes to hold over others; and regardless of age and/or any disability preventing someone from taking an active part in society or the work place, the Country shall fairly provide for the needs of each and every citizen.

**3.** No Conflicting Belief Systems: of religious, political, or personal foundations will be funded by government subsidiaries, be the basis for policy of law, or be recognized as official holidays. Nor will any citizen be morally bound to any form of religious dogma or spiritual belief, but instead be guided by their own self-conscious morality of inherently knowing right from wrong.

**4.** Population Control: must be maintained through responsible reproductive behavior on part of our citizens to provide the necessary time to replenish our depleted natural resources and prevent over populating our food supplies, if not, it will be done by government decree and strictly enforced.

**5.** A Universal language: must be implemented in order to prevent communication breakdowns among different cultural backgrounds and to also eliminate any suspicious mistrust of foreign words used as coded communications to plot against others, with English being our country's language of choice.

"Say, I think my stomach just reminded me that it must be lunchtime," Michael said with blushed cheeks after feeling a slight, but audible, grumble coming from his gut.

"My car is this way," Eve said, giving Michael a quick tug on his sleeve as he started heading back the way they came.

Flanking the New Constitution were the portraits of the two founding fathers of New America. Eve stopped Michael in front of the Prophet Warrior's portrait.

Marlon Rosemary, the fastidious museum caretaker hurried past them, alerted to some pressing matter. Michael and Eve noticed what was calling his immediate attention as the caretaker went by the New Constitution display and stopped in front of the portrait of General Cain. A blinking red light located above the portrait sent out a silent alarm after detecting a foreign substance.

Michael and Eve went to see what the commotion was about and saw the gradual appearance of dark lines forming the letters F W F across General Cain's portrait, developing like an old Polaroid photo.

"I do not understand it," Caretaker Rosemary said with his hands on his hips, shaking his head in disgust.

"Doesn't FWF stand for Free Will Forever? I'm not really up on these fringe groups." Michael said.

"They are nothing but a bunch of ungrateful punks who think they know better how to keep things in order," Caretaker Rosemary said. "But what baffles me is how they managed to get away with it without tripping our sensors."

"I guess, where there is a will, there is a way," Eve said with a light girlish laugh, trying to play down the incident.

But Michael's inquisitive nature got the better of him as he took a closer look at the darkening letters before offering his deduction. "It must be a slow developing, reappearing, invisible spray of some kind. Your sensor didn't detect it until it started to appear. No telling how long before it was applied."

"Well, this is all very fascinating, but we should get heading back," Eve said with a slight nervous apprehension.

"Huh. What? Oh, yeah," Michael stuttered through his lost in thought moment, getting back to social conventions. Just realizing in order to get a closer look at the graffiti strewn painting, he had to let go of Eve's hand. Now feeling the vacant emptiness, he stepped back over and retook her open, waiting hand.

"Sorry for your troubles, Mr. Rosemary. But please let me know if you figure out how they did it. I would kind of like to know."

"Oh, we will get to the bottom of this, I assure you. These punks may think they are pretty smart, but so are we." Caretaker Rosemary said with conviction.

"I understand the need for asking questions about the way things are, but I just don't see how vandalizing public artworks will solve anything." Michael added before leaving with Eve.

Walking hand in hand toward the exit, leaning on each other in affectionately close proximity, Michael and Eve appeared to be the perfect young couple heading into a bright future filled with loving bliss.

"I believe at heart the FWF has the best intentions behind their cause, but free will at what cost. In the end, it was our selfish need to say or do whatever we wanted that bred the arrogant belief we were better than other people were just because we lived in a free land. We became prisoners of our own freedom. There needs to be a balance, which is why you and I are here, today."

"To restore the balance," Eve added as they exited the museum's rear entrance leading out to the back parking lot.

Feeling the late day sun on his face, Michael just smiled at the thought a moment before replying. "Maybe we are. Let's not ponder on these philosophical matters too long and go get some lunch."

"Sounds like a plan to me," Eve agreed.

After the initial ease in which she accomplished the first part of her mission, a growing uncertainty started to creep up in the back of Eve's mind. Nothing could have prepared her for the next part. The quandary of her decision to reveal to Michael she was really a member of the FWF, especially selected for him by the rebel group, and she was the one who marked General Cain's portrait on specific orders to gage his reaction. Or the most difficult part, how to tell him about a recently rediscovered DNA sample proving he was the only living heir and a direct descendant of the Prophet Warrior.

# 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 justify 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 begin." 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 muttered, "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.

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.

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 time 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."

# CHAPTER FOUR

### A TIME TO LIE

1

Yes.

The word sounded out in her mind as if hearing it spoken for the first time, except not by her. The voice in her head was Michael's from seven weeks ago in response to the same choice of a yes or no answer Max and Jean gave her. Although the question was different, the answer was the same. After being caught up for most of the ride home from the museum in silent contemplation, Eve offered Michael the similar option of an easy out. He did not have to give any reason for his answer, no questions asked or clarifying response owed, to which he simply replied.

Yes.

With just the one word, much had changed in both their lives. To be fair, it was a change she had been well prepared for, ready to accept of her own free will, even after he extended her the same opportunity to gracefully back out of their prearranged partnership. Eve did take solace in knowing the final decision was not hers, having consented long before they ever met. An increasing desire to spare him the knowledge of the deceptive nature behind their illicitly programmed match started to grow in her heart, wishing it could have derived through proper channels without being cognizant of Michael's regal, hereditary birth or her own parentally motivated, clandestine mission. The stronger her feelings grew the harder it became to tell Michael the truth, not wanting to risk losing the real love she felt in his heart, a love they both shared. In good conscience, Eve believed she had no other choice, and it was the right thing to do. She refused to live the lie they were asking her, despite acquiescing to their covert agenda.

Following a brief courtship, the strong, passionate attraction they instantly shared transformed into a deep, true love, which pleased everyone from the SBP to the FWF—with the latter related to her by an equally enthused Max and Jean. And even though they were sorry to see him go, Michael's friends were also happy for him, especially after meeting Eve. The only one with any misgivings over their impending physical relationship was Eve. Not because her feelings weren't real, it was because they were. The indecisive battle waging in her mind played out with Hamlet-like overtones of endless doubt. Whether to live the lie or not to live the lie was the question plaguing her mind. With the pressure to consummate their appointed duty coming from the opposing agendas of others, Eve felt more relief than anything else when Michael suggested waiting until after they got married before doing the deed. At heart, she even agreed with him. It should occur naturally in accordance with the couple's free will of desire. Not some pre-programmed computer chip inserted in a slot and downloaded onto a hard drive.

The time allotted by the SBP for insemination provided a short courting period to permit a more spontaneous progression of sexual intercourse to transpire. Conversely, the FWF had other motivating factors pushing their agenda forward, wanting to produce a quicker resolution for their future prosperity. The patience of the SBP was not eternal, either. Prospective couples were encouraged to have a bun in the oven within two months of acceptance, and should at least have experienced coitus before moving into their SBP suburban home.

The carefully designed communities offered a stable environment conducive to raising children without any of the worries of old associated with the status quo of keeping up with the Jones. Families no longer had to live in fear of bad elements preying on Lindberg babies, OJ obsession murders, Menendez family slaughters, Manson cult killing sprees, or mutilated Bobbitt parts found along the roadside. There were no street gangs, home invasions, domestic abuses, sexual assaults, racial prejudices, or financial burdens breaking up a family's tranquil existence, infecting them with any of the social ills of the past. Instead, they had fully functioning community centers, parks, and playgrounds with well-maintained equipment and grounds. All regionally located near residential neighborhoods and separated by a five-year age demographic among the children within a ten-block radius. The modern-day schools served every child's educational needs, assigning each student a Career Counselor to help guide the pupil's academic achievements throughout their entire education, right up to college graduation or completion of any vocational occupation training.

Aside from the inevitable friendships born among the children, the living arrangements also bred a mutual bond—along with fetuses—amidst the women. With no petty jealousies, envious desires for material possessions, seductive betrayals of the heart, or long held bitter grudges dividing girlfriends into exclusive clicks, true friendships blossomed, creating a communal village mentality in place of generational blood relations. Through a process of systematically interbreeding the different races, a separation of people by bloodlines, nationalities, or hereditary cultures, including distinguishing characteristic traits indigenous to ancestral, geographic regions, had all but vanished. Overtime, a general complacency developed in most people willing to conform to their environment, the way water always seeks the path of least resistance. Still, there were unique individuals who had personalities that were insuppressible by any outside forces or influences.

Eve had one of those free spirited, independent personalities her new girlfriends found so charming, which was a rather novel concept to her, not being real close with any of the schoolgirls she grew up around. She actually found herself enjoying the good life amid new friends. In a little over three weeks since moving into their SBP home, the welcoming gifts from friendly neighbors, hosting weekend barbecues, made Eve temporarily forget her underlining purpose for being there. With many common threads linking the couples together, especially the women, it was easy getting caught up in their world of wedding planning, baby showers, and kids' birthday parties, including mandatory SBP fertility and parenting classes, which necessitated a slew of medical exams, prenatal exercises, fetal testing, and pediatric care. It also was where Eve found herself sitting on an early Friday morning.

The sterilized décor of the stark white waiting room in the SBP Fertility and Pediatric Center seemed oddly out of place to Eve as she waited for her monthly. That was what the girls called it, "their monthly", five of whom were sitting with her waiting for their mandated monthly appointment.

"I have been getting some of the strangest cravings lately," Hilary Edwards, a twenty-four-year-old, feisty redhead in her first trimester, admitted. The unusual yearnings were not a new experience for her, having gone through it before when her daughter, Kelly, was born a little over two years ago, then again, something felt quite different this time around.

"Hey, so does my husband every time he gets an eyeful of these babies," Amanda Erickson indicated the mammary enlargement her six months pregnant condition caused, evidenced by the voluptuously robust blonde's bulging posture.

"I had an incredible taste for sweets, and I don't normally care for them," Bridget Jackson said in a hushed voice while breastfeeding her newborn son.

"What I have been dying for is the biggest, juiciest steak I can sink my teeth into or maybe some barbecue spare ribs or a couple fried chickens, which would not sound so bad, except that I am a vegetarian." Hilary revealed the oddity of her cravings.

"Maybe you are having twins," Jackie Roberts interjected an unpopular alternative.

The intention of the twenty-two year old dark brunette's comment was unclear, but if she meant to cause uncertain tension; mission accomplished. Only Eve seemed unaware of the foreboding mood entering the fertile setting with an imagined rise in temperature felt by everyone, except her. Eve did not understand the dark omen the comment held in the minds' of the others. Jackie was the latest addition to the neighborhood, moving in a week after Eve who, along with her, was the only resident on the block without a child or pregnant.

The examination room door flung open as Kim Curtis burst in the room in a proclaiming moment of joy. "Hey, everybody, I'm knocked up."

The sprightly, exuberant announcement of the twenty-year-old newlywed brightened the mood in the room, followed shortly by another notification coming from a nurse appearing in the doorway.

"Hilary and Kelly Edwards, come with me, please."

Getting up with a softening sigh, Hilary called her daughter over. "Come on, Kelly. It is time to go see the doctor for mommy's sonogram."

Before going with her mother, Kelly put away the toys she was playing with in the toy area of the waiting room without a fuss, and then obediently walked over and took her mommy's hand.

"Are we going to see the baby in mommy's belly?" Kelly asked.

"That's right, sweetie," her mommy answered as they followed the nurse.

Kim was in no hurry to leave and sat down next to Bridget for some paternal female bonding.

"You have such a beautiful baby, and I just love the name you chose for your little darling," Kim said brushing her long brunette bangs from her eyes.

"Thank you, Jeff Bridges has such a nice ring to it," Bridget answered as she finished feeding her infant, then held him up to her shoulder and gave him a gentle pat on the back. Grasping at mommy's light-blonde hair, the little guy let out an audible belch, making the girls giggle.

"Sounds like somebody has had their fill," Bridget said holding up her son, which caused him to smile and reach out at the sight of mommy.

"I heard natural childbirth can be painful, but I cannot imagine this fellow could have been much trouble," Kim said sticking out a finger for him to grasp.

"Would you like to hold him?" Bridget offered the future mother the opportunity to experience one of the joys of motherhood.

"Oh, yes, please, thank you," Kim accepted, gently taking the young tot in her arms as she cradled him in a protective basket hold.

"I cannot lie. Natural childbirth can be pretty rough, but it is much better for the baby. What helped me get through the pain was thinking about how the Prophet Warrior's mother gave birth alone in a cave on a dark and snowy night."

The story of the Prophet Warrior's conception and birth had become the foundation of modern day folklore, passed down over the years with no historical record to verify or deny its accuracy. Much like her celebrated son, there was only little known about the woman who brought the savior of mankind into such a harsh world, including her name. As legend goes, her father was a good friend of The Author, and she helped him bury the anonymous writer with the original copy of The Book of Tomorrows after his murder at the hands of an angry mob. With the law of the land reverting back to survival of the fittest, the father and daughter managed to find sanctuary hiding out in a small town for the next five years, but fell victim to the savage barbarism plaguing the land. After her father's brutal murder, the daughter was left for dead and pregnant. From that point on, facts blur with legend as the Prophet Warrior's mother, while still carrying him in her womb, sought out and got bloody vengeance just before giving birth—although some insist it was during delivery. A nameless heroine, idolized by young girls as a contemporary superhero, whose only power was the love for a child, so cruelly brought into the world, she believed he was born to save it.

All these years later, the legend lived in the hearts and minds of those who still believed in and needed heroes as Kim expounded upon one of the more outlandish tales. "I heard she actually had to fight off hostile intruders while giving birth."

"I was told she taught the Prophet Warrior how to wield a sword," Amanda added in the stimulated manner of an excited child worshiping her idol.

"Girl, what I want to know, how did you keep your figure so slim?" Jackie asked about more grounded matters, injecting another opinion before anyone could reply. "Something else men do not have to worry about. It's just not fair."

A debate on how men got an easy job they enjoyed doing and how the women had to do all the hard work took precedent over weight gain issues as Jackie, Bridget, Kim, and Amanda gossiped back and forth like a feminist sewing circle extrapolating on the injustices between the sexes—a conversation that has been in continual momentum since women learned to talk.

"They get to work while we are expecting." "They do not have to spend as much time preparing for childcare with all the fertility and paternity classes we have to take." "And they get their careers back on track quicker, most of the time without even missing a beat."

Eve neglected to participate in the discussion over gender bias, figuring that was the least of her worries and somewhat hypocritical, considering her present situation.

"You know, it is a well-established school-of-thought, the first three years are the most important in a child's emotional growth," Bridget said, expounding on one of the awesome responsibilities of motherhood. "So I cannot think of a better place to be during that time. And if some men, or women, would rather spend the time advancing their careers over nurturing their offspring, then they do not know what they are missing, and by the time they do, it will be too late."

"I also read an article saying ninety percent of couples who get married stay together, compared to only fifty percent who do not," Kim furnished another opinion relative to the subject at hand. "That is why Tim and I decided to get married right after I got pregnant."

"Looks like we will need to throw a bridal/baby shower combo," Jackie stated the problem at hand, then offered an easy solution. "We can even have it my backyard, tomorrow afternoon."

Eve already read the article Kim mentioned. She found the statistic fascinating. It was something she also hoped for, in spite of the fact she decided to confess everything to Michael against the instructions of the FWF. Fearing a long, happy married life to the man she loved might not be in the cards, afterwards. Selected couples who wanted to copulate before moving into their new homes had access to special SBP hotels, motels, and resort areas, except Michael and Eve wanted to get to know each other before jumping in the sack. Their original plan was to have a backyard wedding service on the second weekend of living there, giving them time to settle in and get to know the neighbors. Then after a New York City expedition got moved up six months, Michael received a special leave, arranged at Jacob's behest. Feeling she dodged a bullet, Eve agreed to postpone the nuptials, also knowing it only delayed the inevitable.

As Eve waited for her appointment, the nervous anxiety she felt over her impending fertility examination weighed on her mind more than any delayed wedding ceremony, being that her virginity was still intact. Well, sort of intact. Eve found herself in the unenviable and unusual position of needing to fake it in a way probably never conceived of at the present time. She needed to find a way to break her own hymen without the aid of any personal, penetrating devices from the past that were no longer part of the current culture. Her desire to be honest with Michael before taking the plunge, so to speak, forced Eve to resort to the unconventional means of utilizing various fruits and vegetables to accomplish the ruse. Not that she did not long for the real thing after spending the first week in their new home sleeping next to each other, curled around his warm, welcoming body, something she missed every night since his departure. At least he would be home tonight, maybe even when she got back, but would he still want her after learning the truth.

The waiting room door flung open a second time with the same applied force of someone on the other side wanting to get out their news just as eagerly, but their announcement's delivery had a decidedly different tone.

"Damn, I am having twins," Hilary stated in a distantly confused voice to go along with the faraway look in her eyes.

2

"I guess however it is viewed does not matter. It is still an amazing sight to behold."

Michael turned around at the sound of a familiar voice.

"Jacob, what are you doing here?"

"Just in the neighborhood and thought I would drop by."

After a friendly handshake, Jacob stepped up and looked out from Michael's previous vantage point.

"Now there is something you don't see every day."

The noonday sun resting high over the New York City skyline skewed quite a different perspective normally observable from the New Jersey side of the Hudson River, directly across from mid-town Manhattan. Even viewed from a distance, the cruise ship rammed through the Empire State Building definitely seemed out of place. Five or six stories from the top of the iconic skyscraper, the ship's stern protruded from the front of the famous building with the bow sticking out the back, forming an almost perfect T.

"If you think that is something, check out the view with these babies," Michael suggested as he took off a pair of high-powered binoculars with a built in digital camera and handed them to Jacob.

A panoramic view of the entire New York City skyline was seen in all its spectacular magnitude from lower Manhattan, where the World Trade Center used to be, all the way up to the George Washington Bridge, which had its own structural renovations courtesy of an aircraft carrier that had somehow splashed down on it, collapsing the bridge two hundred feet from the New York side.

"I also got some great aerial shots the other day."

Jacob switched to the digital camera mode and was treated to a bird's eye view of midtown Manhattan's Time Square, where another aircraft carrier was resting on its side in about twenty feet of water.

Digitally panning through the photos of Manhattan, another oddly displaced sight became discernible near Central Park South. In between the Time Warner Building and Carnegie Hall, where the Columbus Circle Memorial once stood, the upper half of the Statue of Liberty floated around like a buoy marker.

"At one time this used to be the most popular and well-known city in the world." Michael expressed his knowledge of the foregone metropolis, which looked more like Venice, Italy than the famous Big Apple with the entire city submerged under anywhere from ten to thirty feet of water.

"Yeah, but they blew it all up."

"Damn them all to hell."

"Huh?"

"Oh, nothing, I just sometimes think it might have been better if man never evolved from apes," Michael said as Jacob handed him back the binoculars.

Michael took another look across the expanded width of the Hudson River at the concrete jungle reduced to nothing more than skyscraper fossils standing sentinel over a dead city.

"But as usual, I see you managed to show up after all the hard work is done. Then again, I'm not sure why you bothered coming at all, unless you are here to oversee the prep work."

"Hey, somebody has to swoop in to take all of the credit, but that is not the only reason why I am here, though."

Michael shot Jacob an I-know-what-is-coming-next-look of someone about to be asked a big favor.

"It is only for one more week."

Michael's hesitant reaction gave Jacob pause, wondering what could possible deter his further commitment to the job at hand.

"Do not get me wrong, Jacob. Believe me. I am as excited about this recent find as you are, especially after everything I went through to unearth it. But I figured it would take a couple of weeks to get it ready for exploration, and give me some time to go home and get married."

Michael looked around for anyone within earshot, even though he knew no one else was there, taking a cautiously paranoid approach to what he had to say next.

"It is just that Eve and I decided to wait until after we got married to....well, you know." Michael shyly half whispered. "And I do not want the SBP to give Eve a hard time about still being a....um. You see what I am saying here?"

Jacob let out an is-that-all type of laughing sigh before putting Michael at ease. "Do not worry about a thing. I will handle it. I know everyone concerned will understand the importance of what we are trying to accomplish here and will gladly grant you an extended leave from societal duties."

Michael gave him a silent nod of acceptance.

"Besides, you only have yourself to blame. If you didn't go out and prove Franklin Harriet's theory of a secret, underground city beneath Central Park as nothing more than an urban legend proffered by conspiracy theorists, you would have been able to spend the next couple of weeks at home getting to know the wife, while the Department of Infrastructure's core of engineers would have been doing all that excavating for nothing."

"Hey, I didn't mean to rain on Franklin's parade. But when I came across an old website about a hidden bunker under Central Park being used to conceal highly implausible political prisoners such as; Nicolas the Czar of Russia, Adolf Hitler, and even an absurd claim about housing the aliens that supposedly crash landed in Roswell—I knew there were some serious credibility issues being overlooked or outright ignored."

"So, what did you do? Go and sneak off in the dead of night to investigate another site on your own, ruffling Franklin's feathers in the process. You know he had already planned on naming it Franklin's Find."

"They can name it anything they want. I am here seeking knowledge, not glory. And it was early morning, not dead of night. You celebrity types always like to employ a little creative licensing when trying to make a point. "

"Well you are not going to have to worry about me embellishing on anymore of your adventures. I am going with you this time. And do not worry. I will gladly take all the credit and glory for you. What are friends for anyway? "

"If you don't slow me down too much, it will be nice having a friendly face along."

"In that case, I am going down to get myself a hearty meal and a good night's rest. We will head out first thing in the morning," Jacob said walking away, continuing their playful repartee. "I mean, I wouldn't want to hold you back, not that anything could."

Looking out from the New Jersey Port Authority's Helipad affixed roof (with a helicopter parked on it), Michael smiled to himself as he tilted his head back to feel the hot July sun on his face. Like the Big Apple, the Garden State was mostly underwater, especially in the lower and central areas previously vulnerable to flooding. In order to gain access into New York City, they built long pontoon bridges over the submerged New Jersey highways to transport personnel and supplies for the expedition. They established a base camp at a cliffside-mansion in the town of Weehawken, near the New Jersey Port Authority building, where the Lincoln Tunnel used to connect the two states for travelers. But now, only marine life could make safe conduct through it. The air breathing species facilitated the use of a helicopter and various types of aquatic transports to explore the concrete jungle.

While climate change contributed to turning the East Coast into a waterworld with a ten to twenty inch rise in sea levels, the real culprit came in form of a two hundred foot wall of water sent across the Atlantic Ocean when a volcano erupted off the coast of West Africa. The Cubre Vieja volcano in the Canary Islands erupted and collapsed into the ocean with a massive landslide, sometime after 2035 (no one knows for sure, since historical records were very sketchy from back then, if any). It sent a huge surge of displaced water racing across the ocean at over five hundred mph and slammed into the United States east coast seven hours after the first splash hit the water. With the country already decimated by disease, warfare, and the aftermath of those events, there was no warning given, nor could one have been responded to if it had come. The Tsunami swept away everything in its path not made of concrete and steel or located on high ground, wiping out most coastal cities, including New York City—hitting lower Manhattan the hardest, flooding tunnels, subways, airports, beaches, wetlands, Battery and Central Park, Wall Street and the financial district, along with the boroughs of Brooklyn and Queens, as well as Long Island and Staten Island.

Taking one last look at the Manhattan skyline before heading down to the cliffside-mansion base camp, Michael could not help wishing Eve were here to share this moment with him. She would have gotten a real kick out of seeing the unintended addition to the upper floors of the Empire State Building. But what he missed most was waking up next to her in the morning, holding their bodies close together throughout the night, while subconsciously adjusting position proximity anytime either one of them tossed or turned in their sleep. Thinking back on the first night they spent together, the day they moved into their new home, how nervous he was about sharing a bed with someone, never mind the thought of making love. Michael could not believe how natural and comfortable he felt sleeping next to her, or how he had not slept right since leaving for New York City.

Even though they were in different time zones with neither of them aware of the others thoughts, Michael experienced his mental longings for Eve at the same moment in time she had her own reflected memories of him.

3

"Are you sure you do not want me to stay? It sure looks like you got your hands full there."

"No, thank you, please, I got this recipe from Warren, and I want it to be a surprise dish. So go on and give Jean the news about the move. I am sure she would love to hear from you."

"I could just give her a call."

"The personal touch is so much better when spreading good cheer. Besides, I want tonight to be a special night you will always remember."

"Okay, then, if you are sure."

"Most definitely, I got this. Say by the way, if I manage not screw this up and burn the house down, you should invite Jean over for dinner next week. I would kind of like to play chef again."

"I know Jean will be delighted to come. She has really grown quite fond of you."

"Let's just hope she still feels that way after tasting my cooking. Oh, and tell her if she wants, she can bring that Max guy who seems to pop up whenever the two of you are together."

Eve paused a moment to take in the perceptive nature of Michael's powers of observation. "I will be sure to include Max with the invite."

After telling Jean and Max about the dinner invitation and Michael's astute conclusion about Max (they already knew about the move), Eve revealed the real reason she wanted to see them that day.

"I am sorry. I can't go through with it."

Max and Jean exchanged astonished, shocked expressions at the sound of Eve's words spoken with such finality.

"I cannot live a lie."

The distress, stunned looks on their faces transformed to countenances more concerned with the reticent dissent causing Eve such discomfort.

"Michael has special plans for tonight, and I cannot bring myself to condone a physical relationship based on a foundation of deception. I have to tell him the truth, because if he found out afterwards, he may never forgive me. At least this way he will know my feelings are true."

"How do you think he will react to the news?" Max asked with an assenting sigh.

"Michael deserves to know who he really is, and I think once he does, he will be more committed to the cause than anyone." Eve paused a moment before continuing in a confident, controlled tone. "Max, you can inform the leaders of the FWF about this if you want, but there is little they could do about it now. I am sorry if you are disappointed with me, but I know this is the best way to accomplish our goal. I do not understand how they expect to expose a lie by perpetrating another lie."

"Actually, I am quite proud of you," Max said.

"We both are," Jean added, trying to alleviate the confusion forming in Eve's eyes.

"You have taken the final step in becoming your own person. When you are willing to stand by your convictions and find quarrel in a straw when honor is at stake, then nothing or no one can deter you from seeking your true path." Max said with the prideful exuberance of a teacher being eclipsed by his student.

"I cannot tell you how much it pleases me to know I will have your confidence, support, and approval on the path I have decided to take."

"As for the leaders of the FWF, let us handle them. They don't have to know anything they do not need to," Max said trying to ease one of Eve's concerns.

"Max and I never agreed with their covert plan, but we were not given a choice." Jean expressed her shared doubts with Max over the original programmed agenda.

"They cannot see from the sidelines what is clear from the field. Sometimes you have to let your quarterback call the plays. Because who knows Michael better then you do?" Max said with an impromptu sports analogy.

"If you truly do love each other, you can summon the strength to move mountains, if necessary." Jean said.

"It's what I am counting on. I just hope my winning smile and charming ways have not deserted me," Eve said as she let out a girlish giggle in a moment of levity.

The vote of confidence coming from Max and Jean, backing her decision to go rogue to accomplish her vital mission, helped give Eve the courage to confess, while also keeping a hopeful heart true love would not be forever lost after arriving home—Home Sweet Home. Hearing those words going through her mind sounded funny. It may not have been too dissimilar from the thoughts a young couple had when moving into their first home—minus the financial worries over mortgage payments, job security, and living expenses—but the same fear of losing everything clearly existed in her mind, which could wear down one's resolve to risk it all for a chance at a greater reward.

Pulling in the driveway of their three-bedroom Cape Cod Colonial home with a gable front and white picket fence, Eve let out a deep sigh, wondering if today would be the last time she could call this place home. The distance to the front door from the car was only twenty-five feet, but it felt like the longest walk of her life. Each step seemed to get heavier the closer she got to her destination.

Putting on a brave face, Eve walked inside giving a traditional family greeting.

"Hi, honey, I'm home."

Spread out down the hallway, rose pedals covered the floor in a floral red carpet, leading past the living room and the second floor stairway, all the way up to a candlelit table set for two. The only other source of illumination came courtesy of several well-placed candles around the room, creating a cozy, romantic atmosphere.

Eve just stood in the doorway completely swept away by the thoughtful gallantry of the endearing décor. Michael came out of the kitchen located behind the dining room that was in line with the front door. He had two salad bowls in his hands that he set down on the table after seeing Eve standing there left speechless by his enchanting, sentimental gesture.

"Welcome, Mon Cheri, please allow me to present our culinary delicacies for this evening that are sure to delight your palate." With the finesse of a maître d' from a five star restaurant Michael rambled off the dinner menu.

Eve moved up the hall to the dining room as Michael continued.

"Tonight, we will begin with a Waldorf salad, plus a refreshing appetizer of Oysters Rockefeller. Then onto this evening's entrée', Ginger Steamed Salmon served with a side of steamed asparagus smothered in Hollandaise sauce. And for dessert, we have fresh strawberries and cream."

"Oh, my, I just cannot believe you went through all this trouble." Eve replied after finding her voice. "If you don't mind, I would like to go freshen up before dinner?"

"Please, go ahead. Make yourself comfortable. Dinner can be ready in fifteen to thirty minutes. In the meantime, I will just put on some dinner music." Michael said.

As Eve headed upstairs to the master bedroom, Michael turned on the musical selections he preprogrammed into their living room CPU-HDTV. With the integrated speaker mode on, Beethoven's _Moonlight Sonata_ sounded out in perfect clarity in every room of the house.

Moving about in a more hurried pace once upstairs, Eve rushed into the bathroom thinking she must look a wreck. After everything Michael did, the least she could do was look presentable. A quick change into that little black dress she had been saving for a special occasion would definitely go a long way in making a proper appearance. Now the foremost thought on her mind was if she could just do something with her hair. Temporarily forgetting about the potential sour note the evening might end on with her planned confession, she didn't notice something else moving around in the room until actually sensing another presence. Looking down into the bathtub, Eve found herself wondering aloud at the unusual sight.

"Now that is not something you see every day."

It was Michael's turn to be stunned, taken aback by the alluring vision of Eve walking down the stairs wearing a form-fitting black dress that accentuated every curve of her body as her brushed-down blonde hair flowed out onto her shoulders. Michael stood by the table wearing a dinner jacket.

"You look amazing," Michael said with her chair pulled out as he gave her a gentle kiss on the lips.

"Why, thank you, and may I say you are looking quite handsome this evening," Eve replied before sitting down. Then once seated felt compelled to make an odd inquiry.

"Michael, I do not mean to pry. But I was just wondering why are there two lobsters crawling around in our bathtub?"

With a flushed face of reddened cheeks, Michael bowed his head as he stood behind her trying to hide his embarrassment over his forthcoming answer.

"I could not bring myself to cook them. The recipe Warren gave me, which I didn't bother to read until after picking them up, said I was supposed to drop them in alive, head first into boiling water. It just seemed so wrong."

Eve shifted in her seat reaching up to place her hand on Michael's resting on the back of her chair. "That has to be the sweetest thing I have ever heard." Eve sympathetically expressed her matching sentiment before adding in a more whimsical manner. "It sounds like something out of one of those old movies you are so fond of."

"I'm not too familiar with many romantic comedies, but I would not doubt it."

Letting out soothing giggles Michael and Eve sat down and proceeded to enjoy their meal.

The cozy round table provided close comfort dining with the middle leaf section removed, which came in handy when it was time for dessert.

The rich, white cream delicately clung onto the strawberry rising up out of the bowl. Delivered to awaiting, lush lips, an open mouth enclosed around the creamy topping as sparkling, white teeth bit into the juicy fruit, releasing its tasty red nectar. A little cream was leftover on the tip of Eve's nose, and without hesitation, Michael leaned forward and kissed it away, causing them both to break out in pleasant laughter.

Before Michael could offer her the rest of the tasty treat, Eve picked out another strawberry from the bowl with topping layered all around them and swirled on an extra amount of cream. "Uh, uh, it's my turn now."

Bringing up the heavily coated strawberry to Michael's open mouth, Eve playfully wiped the cream down his nose. She then reached out with her free hand and grabbed him around the shirt collar pulling him forward as she stuck out her tongue and licked the cream from his nose. The spontaneous acts they shared snowballed into several moments of unbridled, wanton abandon as their lips melded together with searching tongues finding each other in a passionate, embracing kiss. With hands moving over each other's bodies, caressing the hidden flesh screaming to break free from the binds of clothing, Michael felt himself almost giving into temptation, and if not for the slight sense of a willing inhibition coming from Eve, he might not have been able to maintain his resolve in holding back.

Removing his lips from hers, Michael slid his roaming hands up to her shoulders and pulled her in close for a tight embrace as he whispered in her ear. "We need to hold up a minute. I have something important I want to ask you."

Eve clung onto him just as tightly. Feeling waves of relief flowing through her body, she softly whispering back, "Me, too."

Simultaneously releasing each other, Eve remained seated as Michael went down on one knee, while reaching into his dinner jacket pocket.

"Eve, I will love for tonight and forever tomorrow." Michael said as he removed his hand from his pocket and presented his betrothed with an open ring box containing a simple gold band. "Will you marry me?"

Holding her hand to her heart, Eve drew her breath inside as joyful teardrops started forming under her eyes. "Yes, oh yes, my dear one. For today, tonight, and forever tomorrow, or whatever may come."

"Here, let me show you something." Michael said as he stood up next to Eve bending over her shoulder so they both could see the words, _For Tonight and Forever Tomorrow_ , engraved around the inside of the gold band. Moving in front of her, he slid the ring on her finger, after which she sprung up from the chair throwing her arms around his neck and shoulders.

"There is one more thing I want you to see," Michael said gently slipping out from under her loving arms.

Going into the living room, he retrieved a copy of the SBP Family Life magazine from off the coffee table and returned to Eve paging through it to find the article of interest.

"Here, check this out." They stood close together in the dining room sharing the article between them with each holding onto one side of the magazine.

"It says ninety percent of the couples who get married end up staying together, compared to only fifty percent who do not."

Taking the magazine and tossing it on the table, Michael held her hands in each of his and gazed deeply into her eyes, possibly searching for a sign of premature acceptance of what he was about to ask. "I know we started something here, but would you mind very much if we waited until our wedding night to finish?"

Eve had to use every fiber of her being to suppress letting out a tremendous sigh of relief, she was sure Michael would have taken the wrong way.

"I think it would be best, too," Eve said managing not to sound too eager, before asking. "Would you still like to share a bed with me?"

"Very much so," Michael answered then shot a quick look upstairs toward the bedroom. "Shall we retire for the evening, my dear?"

Later that evening while lying in bed and planning their backyard wedding for the following weekend—a small, simple service with new neighbors and old friends in a quaint setting—Michael had a recalled thought pop into his head.

"Hey, didn't you also have something important you wanted to ask?"

Curled around him half-asleep, Eve shuddered inside at the thought of her real answer then decided to lie. "Oh, I was going to suggest the same thing...about waiting until after we got married. I just wasn't sure if you were going to ask me or not." Good save, she thought to herself.

They spent the night holding each other in a caressing cuddle hug, wearing only t-shirts and light cloth pajama bottoms, telling each other little white lies just like real married couples of old. They also got the best night of sleep either one of them ever had.

The breakfast tray being gently placed over Michael's sleeping form barely disturbed his peaceful rest until Eve cleared her throat with an audible, "Um, hump."

Blinking his eyes while becoming aware of the foreign object bridging over his legs, Michael slid himself up to a seated position and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. "Oh my, what a lusciously pleasing sight to wake up to, and the breakfast looks quite delicious, as well."

Eve's blushed cheeks indicated she received the intended response for her sweet gesture, giving reply in a faux maid voice. "Why, thank you, monsieur. We try to provide a personal touch for all our guests at this establishment. I do hope your night was very restful. I know I never slept so well in my entire life."

With another tray she prepared for herself, Eve slipped into bed beside him and settled down to a comfortable position. The trays contained nearly identical contents; two halved grapefruits in small bowls with pineapple slices on the side, two hard boiled eggs in silver-cup egg-holders, strawberry preserves spread on whole grain toast, two small glasses of grape juice, and two cups of Darjeeling tea, with the only difference being a single red rose on Michael's tray.

Enjoying the Tuesday morning meal with thoughts faraway from harsh realities threatening to break up their peaceful harmony, Michael and Eve had no expectations of hearing any life changing news that day. So when Michael's personal phone starting playing the theme music from the original Star Trek television series, the symbolic nature of the downloaded ringtone and the message received (telling him of a journey he would be undertaking in the not too distance future to seek out old world civilizations and to boldly go where many have gone before) was not lost on him.

"Hello," Michael answered the phone in video mode.

"Michael, how is the new home? I hope you had some time to settle in, because I got some breaking news to tell you." Jacob's diplomatic façade shone out on the mini-screen, one Michael recognized and knew quite well.

Michael glanced over to Eve, who became real attentive to his conversation.

"Your flare for the dramatics notwithstanding, let's have it? What has happened?"

"Okay if you insist on me being succinct, here it is. We are moving the New York City expedition up six months. Franklin Harriet claims to have found the old government's secret biohazard lab. I need you out there by Friday to confirm the find."

"This Friday, but Eve and I planned our wedding for next weekend."

"Listen, I know this is short notice, and I do apologize for any inconvenience it may cause you and your lovely bride to be, but I need my best man in the field, and Franklin certainly ain't it."

Eve decided to give them some space after realizing Michael might be more comfortable speaking in private. "If you will excuse me, I will just put these trays away, and go get myself ready for the day." Eve removed herself from the conversation and the bed as she got up gathering both trays, placing one on top of the other.

Jacob waited until Eve left before continuing. "Tell the little woman I am sorry about this, and I will figure out a way to make it up to her. She must be someone pretty special for you to put her ahead of an expedition, especially one to New York City."

"She is definitely the one for me."

Michael was pleasantly surprised how well Eve took the news, saying she understood the importance of his work and would never stand in the way of his career. Also adding, she would understand if he wanted to continue waiting until they were married or if he wanted to just shoot the moon and go for it, explaining how she wanted him to leave with a clear head, without any personal indecisions weighing on his mind.

As the days of the week passed by, Michael and Eve continued sleeping together, but remained celibate, even though they both felt strong sexual urges burning inside of them. Eve explained the entire situation to Max and Jean, who were happy about her impending nuptials, but relayed the concerns from the FWF over what could be a dangerous excursion into an unstable region of the country, and they wanted them to encourage Eve to do everything in her power to get pregnant before he left. Max and Jean said they trusted her good judgment.

On the Friday morning Michael left for New York City, a cool breeze chilled the early July air in the Western Territory of Palm Springs. He had been on expeditions before and always felt alert, confident, and self-assured. Only this time, he could not shake off the apprehensive mindset he was leaving behind something vital. His trusty Go Bag was packed and ready to go, hence its name, and he never forget it. The Go Bag contained everything needed to survive on your own for a few days, if your situation warranted it, plus some personal accessories. It wasn't until the car came to pick him up, when standing in the doorway kissing Eve goodbye in a loving embrace, lips locked together, their bodies pulsing with a raw energy aching to be released, being held back by the sheer force of will, Michael figured out what that vital something was.

He had thoughts of Eve running through his head the whole way to New York City—or at least to the New Jersey border base camp. The nearly three thousand mile trip across the country took less than twenty hours. But to Michael, it seemed like merely lost moments of time away from his new love, his one true love. On the way out of town, he could not believe how much he already missed her. He started to regret his decision for them to wait before doing the deed, sensing an ominous, dark cloud forming with a hazy forewarning of uncertainty that he might not ever see her again.

It felt strange leaving home, gazing out the window of the DOS Eco-SUV at the different type of houses making up his neighborhood. Since the SBP chose your mate for you, they allowed couples to pick out their own home from an approved residential listing—which included various A-frame, colonial, bungalow, and ranch designs—then have it placed on an empty lot upon receiving acceptance of their selected partner. Michael felt very satisfied with the home they picked out, already on a lot from another couple who moved on.

While the neighborhood still might resemble something out of a Norman Rockwell painting, the rest of the country appeared quite changed. There was a drastic reduction in the world's population from around six billion people in 2015 to less than a billion at present, although the accuracy of that figure was not trustworthy, due to a lack of communication with many other nations. In corresponding to the success of New America, other countries attempted to rebuild their failed nations, but ultimately ended in unsuccessful, futile efforts. They insisted on doing things the old way, using wealth and power to rule the people, which only led to more civil unrest and eventual anarchy. This pattern continued for many years. Until, other countries finally realized the New American way worked best—rebuilding the country while nurturing an intelligent, well-organized population working together as one. New America was the only nation in the last hundred years to see an increase in the rate of births over deaths, with around eight thousand born per day to only seven thousand passing away—mostly from natural causes.

Over the long years of decay, about a million square miles of North American landscape were lost to climate change as well as natural and manmade disasters, leaving many major cities and ten Nation States no longer a part of what used to be the United States of America. The root cause for the reshaping of the country was mostly due to a direct influence from the acreages of lost land. However, restructuring New America into Five Territories of Providence was only possible by enacting the old government maxim of invoking eminent domain.

The Western Territory of New America was comprised of California, Nevada, and Arizona; while the Northern Territory consisted of Washington, Montana, Wyoming, Minnesota, Wisconsin, and Michigan with most of those States' mountain regions lost to extreme cold zones. North and South Carolina were merged into one with New Mexico divided between Texas and Arizona, and like many of the Coastal Plain States in the lower elevations of the Southern Territory, Florida had been transformed into a waterworld as well as most of Louisiana, Mississippi, Alabama, and Georgia. The States in the Eastern Territory were the hardest hit by the rising sea levels, the aftermath of a devastating Tsunami, and exposure to extreme cold zones. Much of the East Coast was uninhabitable, including six of the original thirteen colonies (Massachusetts, New Hampshire, Rhode Island, Connecticut, Delaware, and Maryland) with Maine and Vermont reduced to frozen wastelands, leaving only parts of New Jersey and New York livable. The Fifth Territory, dubbed The Heartland, grew out of the main agricultural States: Pennsylvania, Ohio, Kentucky, Tennessee, Indiana, Illinois, Iowa, Nebraska, Kansas, Missouri, Oklahoma, Arkansas, and the combined States of North and South Dakota, with the frozen regions allocated to the Northern Territory. The Heartland also incorporated the natural resources available in Oregon, Idaho, and Utah into a sister Heartland separated from the main by the Rocky Mountains and Colorado—the nation's new capital.

There were Twelve Departments of Government created and overseen by the Committee of Twelve Experts with an appointed Committee Expert Official (CEO) representing each department. They assigned Bureaus of Responsibility (BOR) the authority to organize and coordinate the logistical needs for every department, according to their supply and demand with all twelve departments sharing duties and needs:

1. The Department of Agriculture (DAG)

2. The Department of Allocations (DOA)

3. The Department of Arts & Entertainment*(DA&E)

4. The Department of Education & Employment* (DED&E)

5. The Department of Energy & Environment *(DE&E)

6. The Department of Health & Medicine *(DH&M)

7. The Department of Housing & Infrastructure* (DH&I)

8. The Department of Justice (DOJ)

9. The Department of Media & Press*(DM&P)

10. The Department of Science & Technology* (DS&T)

11. The Department of Security (DOS)

12. The Department of Transportation (DOT)

*Denotes dual Departments with mutually shared interests, and while only one committee expert represents the department, there were two sub-committee experts who worked together to make sure each department section was given the proper attention they required.

In the beginning of the reformation process, there were those who remained steadfast and entrenched in the old ways. Survivors of the fall who crawled out from under the wreckage of a withered world became very territorial over whatever niche they carved out for themselves. Whether it originally belonged to them or commandeered through their own form of eminent domain, they were not too willing to give it up for someone else's grand design. Upon fully squashing a few violent uprisings, the precedent was soon set that resistance to the new government would be futile, and much like the American Indian, these native land dwellers didn't stand a chance either.

4

Michael traveled to New York City under the auspices of a special branch division of the DOS charged with providing safe conduct and logistical needs for all expeditions beyond the border walls outside of the safe zones. Once on site though, Michael enjoyed a jurisdictional freedom to move about under the aegis of the Bureau of Archeological & Anthropological Research Studies (BAARS), a joint branch of the DED&E and the DM&P. Although all departments contributed to each other in one way or another, the designated authority remained with the division in charge at the time, which did not mean someone's independent actions couldn't break the rules and be subject to sanctions. Then again, Michael's propensity to follow his instincts like a bloodhound hot on a trail after catching a scent, may not have led to the breaking of any rules, but he sure could bend them a good bit.

"Good morning, Mr. Rose," GP Sally greeted Jacob in a cordial manner. In an unprecedented move, the GAC re-assigned his personal Guardian Protector to watch over Jacob. The forty-seven year old, 6'3", 220lbs, bull of man was a throwback to the clean-shaven, crew-cut, jarhead U.S. marines of yesteryear, and now Harvey Sally, bound by a similar code of honor, safeguarded Jacob with the same vigilant commitment to duty.

"Morning, Harvey. I will reserve judgment on how good a morning it is after you tell me how things are moving along?"

"Right on schedule, Mr. Rose," Harvey assured him before turning his attention to Michael, who he addressed in a gruffly blunt manner. "Mr. Angel, I certainly hope I will not be hearing about anymore un-chaperoned trips into unstable regions."

"I don't mean to be derogatory, GP Sally. But technically, everything beyond the border wall is considered an unstable region, and according to the BAARS' edict, I am given the autonomy to make field decisions if the potential find is deemed worth the risk."

"Someday one of you BAARS guys are going to regret using that loophole, since you seem to believe everything is a potentially important find," GP Sally said in retort as Michael and Jacob made their way onto a waiting speedboat at the end of the boat dock ramp that led down to the water from the cliffside-mansion base camp.

"Michael, I see you still have a knack for making friends wherever you go. Must be your charming personality," Jacob said in a snarky tongue, before adding. "But when you are right, you are right, and right he is, Harvey. And please, how many times do I have to tell you to just call me Jacob, okay?"

"All right, sir, please take a seat. I will get you there, a.s.a.p." GP Sally remained placid in his professional cadence as they got onboard the speedboat, which already had Jacob's Go Bag in it. Michael stored his next to it.

While crossing the expanded width of the Hudson River, Michael smiled to himself as he reflected back on his (much harped upon) last excursion across the river yesterday morning in the early hours just before dawn. His stealthy mission was really more a hunch he had to follow, deciding it would be better if nobody knew about it in case it didn't pan out. A nagging gut feeling started building up inside him the moment he got the detailed reports on why they moved the expedition up. Something he had seen or read before told him something just did not fit. Using his specially programmed notepad with a direct link to CHAD, Michael was able to brush up on his knowledge of the (now rotten) Big Apple on the way to the dead city. The animated man popped up on the notepad's flat screen laid prone on Michael's lap as he started to ramble off pertinent information from factual records, fictionalized stories, and rumored urban legends surrounding the government's infamous bio-lab.

That was when it hit him.

His hunch had to do with an old website making ludicrous claims that sent his Spidey senses tingling, not from any authenticity the site may hold. Instead, it was the deviously deceptive notion of a false website pointing the finger in the wrong direction would be just the kind of thing the old government would conjure up. A distraction from the real laboratory, hidden in plain sight, right under one of the most popular attractions in the city, Rockefeller Center—where a well-known and publicly used underground subway concourse already existed with shopping centers and restaurants.

The U. S. government always denied the existence of the secret bio-lab or any connection to the crazed environmentalist, who left an internet video manifesto stating how the government betrayed him, its own people, and everyone around the world with their lies. However, the prime motivating factor behind the new government allocating resources for these historical research projects came from the positive spin Jacob's specials had on public opinion—a real propaganda machine. Otherwise, they might not have even bothered.

Michael docked the small outboard motorboat he commandeered for his early morning mission to the Atlas monument setting in front of the Rockefeller Center 5th Ave entrance. He tied the boat off to the top of the universe the famous Greek god bore on his shoulders for eternity, which was the only part of the fifteen-foot tall, seven-ton, cast-bronze sculpture not under twelve feet of water. Checking his specially insulated diving gear—a full body suit that kept your core temperature warm in frigid waters, like the chilly combination of the Atlantic Ocean freely mixing in with the Hudson River—Michael was determined to make sure this trip would not be all for naught, which led to his daring journey down into the depths of the unknown.

As he went over the side of the boat with a high-powered light to guide his way through the dark, murky water, Michael knew Jacob would back his play if he could deliver the goods. They had been fast friends ever since he started working for Jacob at the Luxor Hotel in old Las Vegas four years ago. Jacob took a real shine to Michael after he was able to find the facts on an important story no one else on his crack staff could, becoming his top researcher and best friend ever since that day.

Making his way up 50th street, avoiding a blockade of debris clogging up the Channel Gardens, Michael found himself appreciating the fringe benefits his friendship with Jacob earned him. Getting approval for expeditions outside of safe zones, such as New York City, was not easy, but Jacob had some real pull with the network heads. His special investigative programs were even more popular than his nightly news & talk show and a personal favorite of the GAC. Heading down twenty-five feet deeper into the sunken ice skating rink, Michael just knew if he could be the guy who found what others could not, then this whole trip would be worth the journey. Swimming around the glided-cast-bronze sculpture of Prometheus, the 6th century quote from Greek dramatist Aeschylus, carved in the red granite wall behind it, seemed to confirm Michael's fortitude as the words spoke out to him. _"Prometheus, Teacher in Every Art, Brought the Fire That Hath Proved to Mortals a Mean to Mighty Ends"._

Continuing on, Michael gained access into the underground concourse through the Sea Grill Restaurant entrance, giving new meaning to the fresh fish menu with the catch of the day swimming around the dining room. Following the guiding beam of the flashlight, Michael swam down a series of passageways leading to restaurants and shopping mall variety stores, eventually ending up at the northbound platform of the 49th street subway station where his intrepid voyage flourished. The initial force of rushing water through the subway system must have reached its zenith by the time it swept up under the defunct BMT train. Lifted off its tracks, it had been slammed into the subway tunnel wall and cracked open a hidden treasure.

Michael realized by the end of the first week Franklin was not going to see the error of his way or listen to reason. But when he sent word of his find later on that Friday morning, Michael thought it would take at least two weeks to prepare the site for exploration. So when they arrived at the loading dock platform floating on the surface of the water, directly over the skating rink, his shocked expression must have been somewhat akin to the look on Franklin's face after someone informed him of Michael's discovery.

"What, you didn't think they were going to sit around on their hands after getting confirmation of this being the real thing. Accuracy can be a real motivating factor," Jacob said as they pulled up to the loading platform and stepped out of the speedboat with GP Sally grabbing Jacob's Go Bag, leaving Michael to fetch his own.

Franklin, a pigeon-faced man wearing a bow tie, was in intentional earshot of Jacob's comment. He had been reduced to overseeing the dock construction, readying the site for entry by the lucky few who got to go in, which Franklin knew wouldn't be him.

"I didn't think it could be set up so fast." Michael admitted.

"Everything is secure and watertight, Mr. Rose," Franklin said, giving Michael a scowling gaze after Jacob passed by. "The moment we heard you were coming I had everybody work straight through the night."

"Good work, Franklin," Jacob threw him a bone, which he quickly soured the taste of. "But I would certainly hope you would be as vigilant in all your work. Maybe then we might not have wasted two weeks surveying the wrong site."

After stowing their gear, Michael and Jacob got on an electric cart driven by GP Sally and headed over to the center of the platform dock, where a five-foot wide ramp led into the water through the PMN tube snaking down to their ground zero.

"Let's head on down, Harvey."

"Sure thing, Mr. Rose," GP Sally said as he pulled away leaving Franklin with a sour puss.

Made from a flexible, shape-shifting, waterproof material, the Polyesthylene Morphogenic Nano-fiber tube formed a hard, flat surface to move along on before expanding up to create arched ceiling walls, providing a highly durable, protective shell. Designed to level off gradually on an inclining downgrade all the way to the bottom, the PMN tube furnished a sturdy, smooth, scenic ride through its transparent, fluorescent shell, which gave off an illuminated view of the aquatic environment. As they traveled to their destination, Jacob and Michael were able to get a good sense of their surroundings.

"Michael, it must have been some wild trip navigating your way down here in the dark all by yourself." Jacob said looking around at the treacherously immersed terrain. "Weren't you at all concerned about making it back, or do you just have nerves of steel?"

"Truthfully, it never crossed my mind. I guess I just sort of followed my nose, fixated on my quest for knowledge."

After snaking their way through the skating rink restaurant entrance and down the concourse passageways to the subway platform, a vacuum-sealed docking station separated the end of the PMN tube from the tunnel wall where the removed subway train had rammed into it many years ago. Mounted on the wall and attached to the end of the PMN tube, the docking station fashioned a protective connecting link for them to safely blast through the site wall, especially when there were unknown factors involved—like what was on the other side.

"You know, I sometimes find myself questioning the statistical accuracy claiming we gained the ability to access another ten percent of our brain's potential capabilities over the last hundred years when applying the data to someone like Franklin," Jacob said offering his opinion as they stepped out of the cart. "On the other hand, I usually don't have a problem in relating the increase to you, but there is a fine line between being brave, being stupid, and being dead."

"You make a very good point, Mr. Rose." GP Sally agreed with Jacob.

"I must have been caught up in the moment, carpe diem, if you know what I mean. It was the first time since leaving I did not have Eve on my mind." Michael said as he walked over to the docking station door with Jacob.

"At least your head was clear of any distractions. Remember, only cats get nine lives." Jacob concluded before giving his attention to what lay in front of them.

The five-foot wide containment center mounted onto a cleared out section of the cracked opened subway tunnel wall revealed a large steel door hidden behind it. A strip of High Density Burn cord, made from a clay-like substance similar to C4 plastic explosives, arched around it forming a designed entry point. Affixed to the sealed door and triggered by a computer chip implant, the HDB cord could burn through six inches of steel in a matter of minutes without any of the blowback from an explosive blast.

"Well what do you say we crack this baby open and see what is on the other side," Jacob said as he reached in his pocket and came out with a little black box.

"Do you want to go live with the entry shot, Mr. Rose?" GP Sally asked.

"I'm not so sure that is a good idea, Jacob." Michael warned. "I mean, we do not know what is on the other side. It could be flooded."

"You might have a good point there. We will go with a digital recording for the entry and use the video glasses to film inside." Jacob said before pressing a few buttons on the digital keypad attached to the docking station door.

The sound of the door's vacuum seal being released created an audible hiss from the air flowing into the previously oxygen deprived area as the door swung back a few inches. Opening it the rest of the way, Jacob walked inside, opened up the black box, and removed the igniter chip. Sticking it onto the soft clay-like HDB cord to complete the signal circuit sensor, Jacob stepped back through the docking station door and sealed it.

The lights on the electric cart brightly illuminated everything in front of them. After retrieving a video camera from a side compartment, GP Sally readied himself behind the wheel with the camera propped up and pointed at Jacob.

As Jacob started mentally preparing himself to go in front of the camera, his cell phone's ringtone jingle played out the opening theme music from his nightly show—its familiar melody heard by millions every night. Removing his phone, Jacob glanced at the caller identification, and sighed before answering the call.

"Hello, Bob, I am kind of busy right now. We are about to enter the site."

Michael listened, having a good idea what the topic of conversation might be.

"No, Bob, I don't think it is a good idea. There are too many unknown factors to consider broadcasting this live. I know you are the head of the network, but this is a field opt decision, and I am calling the shots down here. If you do not want to take my word for it, I can put you in touch with someone who will edify you on the subject."

Michael raised an eyebrow over Jacob's last statement.

"I thought you would see it my way. Now if you don't mind, I would like to get to it, maybe we will get some terrific footage for the evening news." Jacob said ending the call. "All right, let's see if we can get this over before another century passes."

Michael stood to the side as GP Sally started rolling film. "And, we are rolling."

"Hello, this is Jacob Rose ready to take you on another incredible journey Uncovering Secret Lies and Hidden Truths from the Past." Jacob pointed in back of him. "Right behind me is what we believe to be the hidden entrance to our old government's bio-hazard laboratory where Alan Vanderbrock VI, a crazed environmentalist, created the virus responsible for over four billion deaths worldwide. The United States government always denied any connection to Vanderbrock and the existence of the lab, which we are about to prove were false claims hiding a sinister secret. But first I would like to introduce you to the man responsible for this remarkable find, my top researcher, Michael Angel." Jacob finished his introductory presentation, adding the surprise twist taking Michael unaware.

Michael reluctantly walked over to the door Jacob stood in front of, and shyly appeared on camera. Unable to find his voice, he raised his hand and waved at the camera as Jacob continued his coverage.

"I owe Michael a great debt of gratitude for not only this discovery, but the personal sacrifice he made to be here at my request. I would now like to show him my thanks by granting him the honor of being the first to break into and explore this virgin territory." Jacob acknowledged Michael's contribution as he directed him to the keypad.

Finding his words, Michael humbly expressed his gratitude and acknowledged their friendship. "I do not know what to say. This is an incredible honor for me, and I want everyone to know, Jacob is not only my best friend, but he is also going to be the best man at my wedding when we get back."

"And that will be my honor as well. Now I believe we milked this as long we could, it is time to get on with the show. So one press of that little red button will ignite the HDB cord and get this ball rolling."

Michael did as directed and stepped back from the glass door to give the camera a clear shot of the burn process beginning.

A flash of sparks shot out from all around the U-shaped HDB cord as it started melting through the steel door. Jacob offered commentary while standing off to the side in a strategically calculated position to hit his mark and still be on camera.

"Now this should only take a couple of minutes as the HDB cord can burn through six inches of steel like a hot knife through butter, also instantly cooling off, preventing the extreme heat from burning anything else."

The cord was set up to burn on an angle so that it would cause the door halves to fall inward, and in less than five minutes, they did. Landing with a heavy thud, the door halves fell inside, one on top of the other, revealing only darkness.

"Oh, yeah!" Michael let out an inadvertent victory yell.

"I could not have said it better myself. Now I will just check on the air quality inside." Pressing a few more buttons on the keypad, Jacob waited a few seconds for the information report to appear on the small monitor screen above the keypad, which indicated the air quality was sufficient. "It looks like we are good to go."

Michael walked over to the electric cart and removed his Go Bag from the back seat, also grabbing Jacob's, too. Strapping the Go Bag on his back after handing Jacob his, who followed suit, the two mighty adventurers were ready for their journey into the unknown.

"For security purposes, GP Sally will monitor our movements using a tracking system programmed into our electric cart and linked to these wristbands Michael and I will be wearing." Jacob said to a future audience as he handed Michael a red wristband.

"These tracking bands have a range of one hundred miles. This way if we get separated inside GP Sally can locate and safely guide us back out." Jacob and Michael put on the wristbands, and then Jacob took out a pair of glasses and put them on. "And with these video glasses, you, the audience, can join us from the safety of your home."

"All right, Harvey, that is a wrap for now." Jacob said walking over to GP Sally sitting in the cart, still filming. Before turning off the camera, GP Sally zoomed in for a close-up of the new opening into the lab as Jacob stood over his shoulder watching through the side viewfinder to get a better look at what was inside.

"Sorry to say, sir, it does not look like much from here."

"You might be right, Harvey. But we won't know for sure until we check it out."

Michael took a peek at the focused in on lab, revealing only a dark, empty space.

Turning off the camera and putting it away, GP Sally handed Jacob and Michael each a flashlight from the same compartment the camera was stored.

Once again, Jacob walked over and pressed a few buttons on the keypad. The vacuum-sealed door hissed open, letting the musky, stale air move out into the PMN tube area. Everyone winced at the foul smell permeating the air. Removing a black bandanna from his pants pocket, Michael tied it around his neck. He then reached back in his Go Bag and came out with a faded, old, brown Stetson he wore on expeditions for good luck, even if it did make him look more like an old west cattle rustler than of an archeologist explorer. Jacob opted for a traditional dust mask to relieve the olfactory senses of rank odors.

"We should be able to get a good picture with a digital recording," Jacob said as he switched on the video camera glasses. "Are you picking me up on the cart's monitor, Harvey? Do we have audio and picture?"

GP Sally turned on the monitor and saw himself on the screen, since Jacob was looking directly at him. "Audio is good, and you got a beautiful picture coming in, if I do say so myself."

Harvey's stab at levity surprised Jacob. It was not part of his usual demeanor. 'He must be worried about me' he thought before replying. "Well then, take a still shot and send it to your mother." Jacob turned his attention back to Michael. "What do you say, my good friend, once more unto the breech, and let slip the dogs of war?"

Michael smiled, laughing to himself as he followed Jacob through the docking station door. "You know, you sound so intelligent when misquoting things you don't understand. It is really quite a gift."

"Say, Michael, if this whole adventurer/researcher thing doesn't pan out, you can always have a short-lived career as a mediocre cruise ship comedian."

The two friends engaged in a light banter to steady their nerves as they entered the infamous laboratory.

Crossing over the threshold into another time of days gone by, abandoned and vacant with only dust silhouettes from long gone lab equipment remaining, phantom remnants of what once was, Jacob and Michael stepped over the fallen doors into a forgotten world. The cold, dead air filled their lungs with a foul, putrid stench. Their flashlight beams scanned the empty dark space, revealing only spider-webs with dust covered empty cabinets and countertop tables in what appeared to be the main lab area.

"Bob should be glad we decided against going live," Jacob said looking around for anything to report, coming up with nothing else to focus on except Michael.

"I'm sorry it did not turn out to be anything substantial," Michael said in a somber tone.

"Hey, it is not your fault, Michael. You proved there really was a hidden laboratory, you can't be blamed for its condition or contents."

"I know, I know, it's just that I was hoping....."

"You were hoping you would get to play that Illinois Jones character you like so much from those old movies about that thrill seeking archeologist."

"Since we are on the subject, the name is Indiana Jones, and I don't really like the movies, they are kind of silly, but I do like look."

"You wear it well. Hey, Harvey, how is the picture and audio coming in out there? I seem to be getting some interference in here." Jacob asked GP Sally.

"You are breaking up on both, but still coming through," he replied back.

"Walls might be lined with lead," Michael said.

"That would do it. So what do you say we do a little recon while we are down here? They might have left something behind to give us some answers."

"They sure seemed to have left in a mighty big hurry, maybe we will get lucky."

"Harvey, if we lose contact you will be able to follow our movements with the tracker, right?' Jacob asked.

"Sure thing, Mr. Rose," GP Sally's voice said in Jacob's ear. "I am getting a strong signal from the tracker. As long as you guys don't go over fifty miles, you will be fine."

"I do not think that will be a problem. We should be back in a couple hours, and we will check in every half hour just in case."

"It would sure help give me peace of mind," GP Sally answered.

"No problem, Harvey. You are like a den mother looking after her charges, and I do appreciate it. Over and out," Jacob signed off, giving Michael a coddled expression by rocking an imaginary baby in his arms. "Let's do this then. Lead the way, Sherlock. Let's see what else your nose can sniff out."

"You know, if you are going to keep acquainting me to famous fictional characters, you should try someone like Superman, with his x-ray vision we could done in no time." Michael said scanning the room with his light shining it off the dull grey walls. "But my Spidey senses are saying we should try those big double doors over there."

"Wow, those must be some really acute senses, considering those are the only doors in the room." Jacob said, also focusing his light on the exit, adding. "I wonder why the door we came through was sealed off in the first place. There must be another way in or out of this place."

"I was thinking the same thing," Michael agreed as they headed out of the room.

After nearly an hour of walking down long winding corridors with the flashlight beams guiding their way, everything seemed pretty much the same throughout the vast underground structure. There was only the relic remains of offices, x-ray rooms, a cafeteria, rest rooms complete with lockers and showers, even some rooms looked designated as sleeping quarters. There were also a series of smaller lab stations with a variety of protective cases equipped for different types of specimens no longer present. Eventually, Michael and Jacob found themselves standing at a crossroads as a divided corridor split down two unknown paths.

"Want to flip a coin?" Michael asked with a smile.

"A what...?" Jacob inquired, momentarily confused before realizing his meaning. "Do you think it is a good idea to split up? I have lost just about all audio, and the video is getting real patchy, too."

"If we don't, we will be down here all day."

"True. But if we get lost, we are going to give poor Harvey a heart attack. I'm sure he is about ready to call in the core of engineers to dig us out if I do not contact him soon."

"How 'bout this, I will take the left, you the right, and we'll meet back here in fifteen minutes. Sound good?"

Jacob went along with the plan, although they did not have to wait fifteen minutes. Because within five minutes of searching the left corridor, Michael came across something making him shout out. "Hey, Jacob, you are going to want to see this."

Jacob came running and found himself caught by the same sight Michael still gazed upon in wonderment. "What the...." He muttered as he slowed his pace, stopping next to Michael. "What do you suppose could have brought that on?"

They were standing in front of the only place in the facility not carefully cleaned out, in fact, just the opposite. Their lights shined on a busted in metal security door that looked like it had been through a warzone.

"Whoever wanted in, wanted in badly. Check out the dents, gouges, and scrap marks on the lock and handle." Jacob pointed out. "And those look like bullet holes."

"Whatever happened here was not part of the program."

"That is for sure," Jacob acknowledged. "Let's check it out."

Still on its hinges, the door stood ajar. Jacob pushed it opened using his foot while shining his light inside.

Entering what seemed to have once been another laboratory, the door's condition was not the only thing different from the rest of the facility.

"Say, do you think this could be his lab?" Michael asked walking around the dark room with the guiding beam of his flashlight revealing broken and smashed up cabinets, tables, and chairs scattered about, and even a sink torn off the wall, its pipes long since absent of water.

"Just might be," Jacob contemplated the same thought. "It is the only place I have come across thrashed like this. Everything else looks like a moving company did it." Seeing the broken sink, another thought sprang to mind. "And whenever they left, someone made sure to seal everything up tight or else this whole place would be flooded.

"I have not seen sign of another entrance or any other way out" Michael added.

"Another good point, Sherlock, we should come back with more equipment, and see if there is any trace evidence linking this place to The Environmentalist."

Michael was walking about inspecting the layout of the room, when his light hit on something diverting his attention to what appeared to be a large walk-in closet with its doors ripped off. "Yeah, I do believe you have a good idea there, Watson. We are going to need some time to figure out the mystery afoot here." Michael said while still walking towards the closet, stepping over broken glass, flattened cardboard boxes, and ceiling tiles leading up to and into the closet.

Stepping inside, he took a last look around before turning and shining his light on Jacob. "At least the trip isn't a total loss."

Almost on cue from the word loss, everything underneath Michael's feet caved in, dropping him down through the floor. He could see his flashlight spinning down into darkness with his wristband tracker getting caught on the edge of a large piece of cardboard, tenuously snagging and hanging him up. The Velcro wristband started to come undone as Michael started losing his slipping grip on the sliding debris.

"Michael!" Jacob screamed as he leapt over towards his friend, dropping his flashlight and sliding along the cluttered floor. Jacob's hand came within a fingertip's reach of Michael's a moment before the wristband tracker tore loose from its slip-sliding hold, sending him falling into the darkness below.

"M-I-C-H-A-E-L-!" Jacob cried out as he stared down into the abyss through his video glasses. Getting up on his knees, clutching the red wristband tightly in his hand, he noticed Michael's Stetson teetering on the edge for a moment before it slipped in and followed him down into the darkness.

CHAPTER FIVE

### VIRGIN TERRITORY

1

The pitcher stood on the mound checking on the first-base runner's lead off the bag. Winding up his pitch, he threw a heater across the plate.

"Strike two," the umpire called out.

"Wow. It is hard to imagine Robinson has any more of his famous ninety-four mph heaters left in him. I know the fans here at Dodger stadium sure hope he doesn't. Except, he has been throwing those blazing fastballs right across the plate all day long," Owen Sandy informed the nervous crowd in his distinct, hard-graveled sport commentator's voice.

After throwing the ball back, the catcher squatted down into position and flashed some call signs to the pitcher with a series of downward pointed fingers between his legs.

"Facing a three-two count, with two outs in the bottom of the ninth, and runners on first and third, it is now up to Clem Sanders to see if he can break this three all tie, and hit the Nevada Dodgers into the World Series for the first time since the restart of Major League Baseball. And, as an added bonus, simultaneously keep their fierce rivals, the Chicago Cubs, out for the first time."

After frustrating the catcher by shaking off several call signs, the pitcher finally got the one he wanted. Giving an affirmative nod, he repeated his wind-up process.

"Sanders hit a record high twenty-five home runs off Robinson, but has no hits in his last six attempts at bat." Owen briefly raised the fans hopes with the old stats, before crushing them with the updated one. "Now, here is the pitch....and the swing."

As another heater burned across the plate, Clem swung for the fences, hitting only air. The force of his swing spun him around in a continued motion of frustrated momentum, enhanced by the umpire's redundant call.

"Strike three, you're out."

"Well, it looks like we are heading into extra innings, folks," Owen said as he tried to appease the disappointed Nevada fans with some final words of hope. "So just sit back and enjoy the rest of the game, our boys are still in the running."

Ever since our humble beginnings, mankind had always sought out ways of entertainment to pass the time when not busy just trying to stay alive. Once we honed our survival skills to the point of having additional free time, the pursuit of more pleasurable enjoyments expanded beyond the boundaries of this world, limited only by our wonderfully fantastical, never-ending imaginations. From cave paintings to woodcarvings to sculptured mountain ranges, we left our mark upon the land to make sure whoever came after us would know we were once here. Occupying our minds with diverting amusements and profound thoughts, we found gentle distractions and joyful enlightenment in artistic creations, musical masterpieces, and theatrical performances. We created memorably endearing characters with a universal appeal to make us laugh or cry, but most of all to feel some eternal bond linking our lives together, showing how all the world really was just a stage.

One of mankind's greatest pleasures had always been his love of the game. Dreams of athletic glory revealed the competitive nature of the human race—clearly defined in our namesake—and spoken out in a universal language heard around the world with the founding of the Olympic Games. By praising thrilling victories and feeling sympathy for agonizing defeats, human beings exhibited their love of a winner, while showing pity for the shunned loser. Although many people were content to live vicariously through the athletic achievements of others, there were those who strived to meet the challenge of overcoming the many obstacles in their way, to skillfully display great feats of strength, and one day demonstrate they too had the heart of a champion.

Soon, an idol worship of sports stars led to children emulating their role models, whether in competition or through their extravagant lifestyles. With egos being built up from the connivances of unctuous agents and an entourage of sycophants telling them; _'you're the best, baby, you deserve this, don't let anyone hold you back'_ , it wasn't long before some started believing their own press. Overtime, the purity of the game—the fair competition between two opposing forces trying to achieve the highest goal through proven, superior skilled effort—was stained with an avarice of greed inflicting a cancer on whatever sport it touched

While there were many dedicated, hardworking, well-trained, and morally disciplined athletes for young ones to idolize, the fame and fortune that came along with stardom could blind some players into taking a shortcut to glory. A malady spread through the minds of would-be stars looking to gain an extra edge, pumping up their bodies with steroids and other addictive substances, which in the end did more harm than good. Soon, health issues arose with diseases infecting the brain along with the body, leading to domestic social abuses, gun charges, and gambling fixes becoming regular stories on ESPN news.

Born from the same pure spirit of mom and apple pie, America's favorite pastime was rooted in the homegrown tradition of baseball. Supported by a loyal, but fickle, fan base, it was a game almost anyone could play—once social conventions finally got around to permitting it—and something the whole family could enjoy, whether participating, watching in the stands, or from the comfort of your home. Teams could remain popular for years (as long as they kept winning) or forever feel the shame from becoming perennial losers, with their most dedicated fans cheering or jeering their efforts.

Many aspired to dreams of stardom, except now, only the most skilled players were able to make the cut, and those who fell by the wayside sometimes grew bitter as Michael's father did. Truly gifted and talented athletes now had a level playing field on which to compete. They restored the game to its truest form through the elimination of drug-enhanced physiques and giant egos spoiling team moral with the mouths of some individuals writing checks their bodies couldn't cash.

Leaving how they played game intact, all major league team sports (much like the country) went through a realignment accorded to a Territory's geographical and demographic requirements. Market value no longer determined a team's location with owners paying for the best talent and the biggest stadiums, while holding their lucrative franchise rights hostage over their city or State. They were willing to sell themselves to the highest bidder and sometimes shamefully slipped out of town in the dead of night, too embarrassed to face the hurt, betrayed looks of their once loyal fans.

In the fifty years since baseball became the first professional sport resurrected from the past—followed shortly by football, basketball, boxing, and many others—the comeback restored the game to its former glory. Old teams revived their fan bases, while others built new ones. There were some subtle changes made in the schedule; like greatly reducing the number of games in a season to sixty instead of one-hundred-sixty, only playing games on Fridays and Saturdays, and a trimmed down roster of teams from twenty-nine to twenty-six. The main objective behind the change was to make the game more accessible and easier for everyone to enjoy and follow, even from the comfort of your own backyard.

Set up in front of the Nevada Dodgers' dugout, in what appeared to be extra special VIP seating, five men cheered on their team from lawn chairs circling around a patio table with an open beach umbrella sticking through the middle, providing some shady comfort for the backyard ballers. On the table next to William Betty—Jackie Roberts' SBP mate—a small, cylindrical receptacle, about six inches long and three inches in diameter, set propped up on a tiny stand. It appeared to be a small stereo speaker, but was really a mini 3-D image projector. The clever device, invented by Bill Betty-techno wizard, empowered him to project the live ballgame on his backyard lawn, permitting the five young men the luxury of being able to enjoy the game on a quiet Saturday afternoon, with their better halves inside the house celebrating Kim Curtis' bridal-baby shower combo.

Five plates on the patio table, one set by each of the men, were mostly empty of food, except for scraps and bones. After nine innings of baseball, the backyard fans took turns expressing their disappointment over their team's missed opportunities to seal the deal, yet remained grateful they still had a chance at victory.

"If it wasn't for those two runs scored off of errors in the bottom of the seventh, this game would be over already," Ray Erickson, Amanda's husband, lamented upon previously failed efforts that would have ensured the win.

"Do not worry about it, Ray. We will keep those Cubbies out of the series. Then our boys are sure to go all the way." Tim Curtis, Kim's fiancé, projected a more positive outlook, demonstrating his loyalty went beyond wearing the team's apparel and colors, proudly displayed on his blue and white baseball shirt and cap.

"Hey, I am just glad Bill, here, is such a techno genius. I would swear I am actually at the game with the best seats in the house," Geoffrey Jackson, Bridget's husband, complimented his host and his creation.

"Once I get an idea in my head I cannot think about anything else until I see it through," Bill explained his mental process.

"That is my Willie boy, for ya. Always tinkering with his toys," Jackie said coming out of the house for some second helpings from the fine choice of barbecued meats still cooking on the grill.

"I am just a big kid at heart, my dear," Bill admitted looking over to Jackie walking back toward the house with a heaping plate of barbecued ribs, chicken, and burgers. "Wow, who is still hoofing down the barbecue, babe?"

"I'll give you one guess," Jackie said in a redundant manner.

The fifth seated man gazed back with a raised eyebrow. "I take it that is for my Hilary," Ed Kelly—husband, father, and un-expected father of twins—asked.

"I swear, Ed. I think she is eating like this because those twins are going to be big, strapping boys. You probably have a couple of future Big-League sluggers in there."

Ed smiled for the first time since Hilary told him the inconvenient news. "I guess there is a silver-lining behind every dark cloud."

Jackie entered the house through the back patio's sliding glass door, where four young women gathered inside around Kim Curtis in a traditional female bonding session. Kim was sitting in the middle of a black, imitation-leather sofa, showered with maternity apparel and baby gifts. Jackie walked over to Hilary sitting on a matching recliner and handed her the plate of food.

"Looks like the guys get extra innings, and we get second helpings. Well, Hilary does anyway." Jackie informed them as Hilary chomped down on a chicken leg.

"I do not think I could eat another bite," Amanda confessed to her satisfied appetite, while sitting on Kim's right with Bridget taking position on her left.

"I really have to thank you all for the lovely gifts and wonderful time." Kim expressed her gratitude for the kindness shown by her hostess and friends.

Jackie started gathering the mostly empty plates with only vegetables scraps and fruit peels leftover from off an oblong glass coffee table.

"No, please sit," Jackie said as the girl's natural instincts kicked in. "I am just going to put these in the sink. There is coffee and cake, if anyone is interested."

"I might be able to fit in a tiny sliver of cake," Amanda acknowledged her renewed appetite at the mention of something sweet.

"Me, too," Hilary added while gnawing on a rib bone.

The young ladies all giggled a moment, temporarily distracting Hilary's daughter from reaching up for the strings hanging from balloons floating around the room and bumping off the ceiling. Unsure of what everyone found so funny, she simply went back to her preoccupation with the balloons.

Jackie headed for the kitchen with the dishes, passing by Bridget's newborn son sleeping in a playpen and Eve sitting off to the side on a rocking chair. Upon returning with a serving tray of coffee and cake, Jackie received more good housekeeping compliments.

"I love the home you and Bill picked out. It is just so....homey," Bridget said.

"I just cannot get over these beautiful backyards and lawns. I love how they connect all the houses together, providing a wonderful open-grass field for the children to play on," Kim added then inquired Eve's opinion. "Don't you think so, Eve?"

Sitting in passive contemplation, Eve's inattentive mind snapped back to reality with some quick comments of implied cognizance. "Oh, yes, it is a lovely home, and I definitely agree about the connecting yards being a great feature, too."

"Are you feeling okay, dear?" Amanda asked Eve. "You seem elsewhere today."

"Oh, I'm fine." Eve answered without much conviction. "Just thinking about Michael's last call, is all."

"Oh, you poor, dear, I almost forgot." Jackie turned to Eve expressing words of sympathy. "First you delay your wedding so Michael can go on a very important trip, and now, on the day he is supposed to come home, you get an eleventh hour call saying he is going to be gone another week. It just isn't fair."

"I really don't mind," Eve replied. She really didn't. But her reasons were not ones she would willingly explain. So, she decided to shift the blame to someone they would find hard to hold a grudge against because of his immense popularity. "Jacob....I mean Mr. Rose called explaining how he would not have asked, except he needed Michael out there to confirm the find. They have been friends a long time, and Mr. Rose values Michael's opinion, which turned out to be right on target after he went out and proved the other guy's info faulty, probably on some bold adventure."

The girls listened intently, knowing what an important friend Eve's fiancée had in Jacob Rose. Nowadays, celebrities did not have to worry about running away from sleazy paparazzi and rabid fans hounding their every move, sometimes right into an early grave as they did with Princess Diane. But famous people still drew awe from the Average Joe, whether personal friends or just adoring fans. Eve was more dolefully fixated on the phone conversation she had with Michael last night, then the celebrity of his famous friend. Something she would be most grateful for after her next phone conversation.

2

"Hello. Eve. I did it! I really did it. I found it." Michael's voice proudly exclaimed through the phone receiver with the heightened excitement of a child trying to tell a parent something really important when their attention was elsewhere.

"That is wonderful news, Michael. I am so proud of you," Eve replied. She was proud of him, too, if not slightly confused by the recent turn of events. "But how did you find it? You sounded so dejected during our last call, saying Franklin could not tell his own butt from a hole in the ground. Although, I assumed you were only kidding about that."

"I might have given in to a wee bit of hyperbole, but it is the general vicinity where he keeps his head." Michael accented his statement with a humorous laugh, wanting to avoid giving details on the subject at hand, which seen in the present light, might not be too funny, even though it really was. "The thing is....um....life sort of has an ironic way of twisting things so something might not seem very funny at the time, but when clearly looked at in the light of a new day...." Feeling he was not making much headway with this approach, Michael tried another rational. "It was really more of an action, reaction kind of thing."

"In other words, Franklin's inept actions caused your capable reaction to do what, precariously go out on your own to undertake some dubious, covert mission in the middle of the night, or else I assume you would come right out and tell me how you discovered the old government's hidden bio-lab. But that is not the real purpose for this call, is it? Because now that you went out and made the discovery, there has to be a reaction to your actions, which means you have to stay longer to explore it."

Michael loved Eve's perceptive nature to see things as they truly are, along with her innate ability to read between the lines.

"I am real sorry about this, honey. But we might be able to prove Jacob's theory correct, and find the answer to one of the biggest unsolved mysteries from the past."

"I know and understand, but I would be lying if I said I wasn't disappointed that I won't be waking up next to you in the morning. I will ask you for one favor, though. Promise me you will be careful, and don't take any more unnecessary risks, like I am sure you did in finding the place."

"It was a just little early morning swim that went smooth as silk, nothing too hairy." he said in an attempt to ease her mind, ending by relaying what he thought would be comforting news. "Oh, Jacob's clearing the extension with the SBP, so you won't have to worry about them giving you any grief about not being pregnant and still a...you know what I mean."

Eve was more concerned with what Jean and Max would report back from the FWF. Not being pregnant was one thing, but if they found out about her unsullied virtue, they might not understand why. But it was out of their hands now. So she did not feel too much pressure from without, only from within the inner workings of her own mind, partly wishing it was over, while taking comfort in the small sojourn offered.

3

The phone ringing in the small purse at Eve's side brought her back from Friday night's call and into a present day conversation after answering the call.

"Hello," she said unsure why Jacob was calling her.

"Eve, I need to tell you something. Do not listen to the news." Jacob told her with as much calm as he could muster. "I promise you, everything is going to be fine. You have my word of honor. I will find him."

Not getting the last bit clearly, Eve had her attention diverted from the call by the sound of the serving tray crashing down on the outside patio deck. Jackie was heading out to see if the men wanted some coffee and cake when something caused her to drop the tray, which caught everyone's attention, putting them on full alert, except Eve. Kim and Bridget jumped up and quickly ran over to see what happened, followed closely by Amanda and Hilary, whose maternal condition and motherly instincts delayed their course of action. Only Eve remained seated. An ominous hesitation of dread coursed through her body, inflicting a momentary paralysis as Jacob's words started to penetrate her distracted mind.

After gathering at the patio door, the women were no longer concerned with the fallen tray or the broken teacups—other than Hilary holding back Kelly, who was also drawn toward the commotion coming from outside and growing louder. With the girls glancing back and forth at Eve in hushed voices, mixed in with Jacob's frantic words about the news, the source of the disturbance became clear.

"Eve. Eve. Are you there? Eve. Don't believe it. I swear to you, I am going to find him." Still holding the phone to her ear, Jacob's continued pleas were clearly audible, but heard only in a faraway, endless void somewhere in the back of her mind as her body involuntarily moved over to the patio door on a seemingly motionless conveyance of disheartened will. Parting before her like a Red Sea leading to a distinctly different path of enlightenment, the concerned friends moved aside letting Eve step out into the light. Barely missing a sharp ceramic shard on the ground, she gained an unwanted clarity of another stressful situation entering her life, which would demand an indeterminable resolve from her to remain strong in the face of unbearable burdens.

An urgent news bulletin interrupted the start of the baseball game's extra innings as the players and fans alike in the actual stadium stopped to listen. The words: URGENT BREAKING NEWS, flashed in what appeared to be midair in the backyard 3-D location, followed by the title shot underneath, reading: JACOB ROSE'S TOP RESEARCHER MISSING AND PRESUMED DEAD FROM A TRAGIC FALL AFTER DISCOVERING OLD GOVERNMENT'S HIDDEN BIO-HAZARD LAB.

A stock footage shot of Jacob sitting behind the desk of his nightly show towered in full view of the backyard onlookers, followed by just a headshot of Michael.

At the sight of Michael's disembodied head floating over the virtual baseball diamond, Eve fainted dead away to the ground before anyone could catch her. From her discarded phone, Jacob's voice continued to call out her name.

"Eve. Eve."

On the other end, Jacob realized his desperate attempt to spare Eve any unnecessary heartbreak failed miserably and knew who was to blame. Feeling the anger welling up inside him, dulling the pain of despair, Jacob found the need to vent his rage on the person he felt most responsible for this added turmoil. It was an extraneous mental reaction to preserve hope of survival in his mind, knowing he had no way to locate Michael, still clutching his torn off wristband tracker tightly in his hand.

4

Racing back to the base camp in a speedboat driven by GP Sally, the spray of water splashing up on his face from their hurried pace barely registered to Jacob. He could not remember how long he lay down there wondering how this could have happened before hearing GP Sally calling out to him.

"Mr. Rose. Mr. Rose. Are you okay?"

At first, Jacob wasn't sure where the voice came from, almost fooling himself into believing it was Michael's, although somewhat confused about the misplaced concern for his well-being and not the other way around. Sensing the presence of someone behind him, reality set in as Jacob got up on his knees, still holding Michael's lost tracker. Without looking back, he started giving commands.

"Harvey, we have to find him. We have to get some lights down here right away, and any other equipment we might need for a search and rescue operation. Do you understand me, Harvey? I am not giving up on him."

Without the benefit of an explanation, GP Sally easily determined what happened to Michael and went right to work prioritizing the safety of his remaining charge.

"All right, Mr. Rose, I will see to it everything you say gets done. First, we need to get you up to the surface. You will be in a better position to oversee the rescue operation from there."

Hesitating a moment before getting to his feet, Jacob took a few steps forward so he could gaze into the abyss, wondering about the possibility of it looking back up at him. GP Sally put a guiding hand on his shoulder after noticing Michael's torn off wristband tracker in Jacob's hand, giving him a slight scare he might jump in after his missing friend. Jacob's mind was far away from any thoughts of meaningless, sentimental gestures of great personal sacrifice. Lamenting more on his lack of a quicker reaction time, or if made from a sturdier fabric, would the wristband have held a few seconds longer so he might have been able to reach his friend in time.

"Come on, Jacob, there is nothing you can do for him down here. I will call ahead to let them know what has happened and what needs to be done. Once we get topside, you will see things more clearly."

Jacob reluctantly followed GP Sally's lead as his mind raced through the possible permutations needed to mount a rescue operation of this magnitude. Oblivious to the call Harvey was in the process of making, it turned out to be the one thing he should have given some more thought. Jacob would soon come to realize if only he bothered to consider the consequences of Harvey's call, he could have prevented the unforeseen and needless discomfort it caused someone else.

It was not until after reaching the surface he became aware of the series of events that had transpired. An instant red alert went off in Jacob's mind, expecting to see Franklin up on the loading platform, but quickly deduced with astute accuracy what he must be doing.

"Where is Franklin?" Jacob asked a dockworker, even though he already knew the answer.

"He hopped into a speedboat after getting a call and took off out of here in one big hurry," the worker explained as Jacob got into a speedboat with GP Sally and headed for the base camp boat dock at a hurried pace.

Jacob ran up the boat dock ramp leading to the cliffside-mansion base camp, with GP Sally trailing at a removed distance from having to tie off the boat. He rushed into the mansion calling out for anyone in earshot.

"Hold the last story. Stop any news story that just came in." Jacob barked at a couple of nervously confused technicians after reaching the media room office.

"I am sorry, Mr. Rose, but it is too late. Jim is going out live as we speak," a scared, young blonde girl informed him.

"What is the headline?"

"Huh? Didn't you approve it? We received the story under the impression it came directly from you. That is why we put a rush job on it," the young-blonde said.

Jacob was already calling Eve's number. "Who said I approved it?"

"Franklin Harriet gave me the title shot word for word as if it came directly from you. Were we wrong to listen to him, Mr. Rose?" the young-blonde asked for forgiveness, except Jacob was no longer listening as Eve picked up.

5

Jacob hung up his phone after losing the connection with—he could only assume must be—a very distraught Eve. Somberly bowing his head, Jacob tried to focus his attention on what he needed to do, instead of the infuriating wrath of seething anger burning inside him, ready to explode from any igniting spark. If not for the sound of Franklin's voice lighting the fuse by callously boasting about being on top of a big story, he might have been able to subdue his inner beast.

"You know, Bill, it just goes to show you the upshot of being in the right place at the right time. I did not want to waste any time on indecision, so I came right to you the minute I got the call," Franklin said strutting around like a proud peacock. "If you look hard enough, you can always find the good in any bad situation."

Lifting his head, Jacob fixated a cold, hard stared on Franklin. Overcome with an outer body experience, his physical form moved forward as his mind remained locked in place. Franklin was unaware of the hostile presence approaching, until the sudden and shocking realization that someone's hand was gripping tightly around his throat. His insensitive, smirking grin quickly disappeared, wiping away his smug smile and replacing it with wide open, terrified eyes. After securing a firm hold on his throat, Jacob pulled Franklin away from the office doorway he stood by, and slammed him hard against the wall on the opposite side of the hallway.

"Jacob. What are you doing? Let him go," Bill, the on-site representative of the network, cried out in a panicked voice, alerting everyone in the building.

Showing a total disregard for Bill's words and presence, Jacob remained focused on Franklin. "Listen to me, you resentful little man. You are nothing but an envious, incompetent fool, and if you caused someone very dear to me any unnecessary pain, I will see to it the next dig you go on will be searching your backyard for your dog's lost bone."

"Jacob. What is going on, here? Why are you so upset with Franklin?" Bill continued pleading with Jacob, who started to become cognizant of his surroundings, and the presence of others gathering around, which now included GP Sally.

"What was it, Franklin? You just couldn't stand the fact Michael proved your theory wrong. So the first chance you get, you try to gain favor from his misfortune. Are you that petty?"

Loosening his grip on Franklin's throat, Jacob did not give him a chance to reply before demanding further explanation, still mentally holding Franklin in the clutches of fear.

"Where do you get off approving a breaking news story in my name?"

"You did what?" It was Bill's turn to be upset with Franklin.

At the sound of someone else's anger directed toward Franklin, Jacob became aware of his fully viewed violent actions. Releasing Franklin with a held breath keeping in his fury, he took a few steps back.

Gasping for air, Franklin eventually managed to speak on his own behalf. "I thought it was an important story that needed to be reported right away."

"And if you knew anything about reporting the news, you would know your first priority is to follow protocol by notifying the next of kin before releasing any story, and only after confirming the facts. You did neither"

"But I did notify the next of kin," Franklin said. "Michael's father is his only living relative, who happens to work as the shuttle driver for the Chicago Cubs, and they are going to pay him a special tribute before resuming play."

"Michael has not spoken with his father in years. They have not had any family contact since his mother died. But he has fallen in love with his SBP mate as her with him. And I do not care what anyone says, he is not dead, and we are going to find him."

"Mr. Rose, I am sorry about all this," Bill said, buying cover for a network deeply indebted to Jacob. "I thought he was acting on your orders."

"Don't worry, Bill. I do not blame you. But right now, I want everyone to give me the room. I need to make a private call."

As everyone started to leave, Jacob imparted one final order. "Oh, Franklin, one last thing, you're fired. I never want to see you or your name connected in any way, shape, or form to any project I am ever involved with again. You can pack up your things and leave now. I want you out of here by nightfall. Are we clear?"

"Yes, Mr. Rose. I am truly sorry for any trouble I might have caused." Franklin said slowly walking out of the house with eyes down.

Retrieving his phone from his pocket, Jacob took a deep breath before selecting the first preprogrammed number for what he felt would be the most important call of his life. He did not know whether or not the guilt of forcing Michael to go on the trip was motivating him to go to any extreme to find his friend alive and well, or if he really did believe it to be true. It did not matter, either way. He had to do it.

"Hello, Jacob," the strong, controlled, even voice of the GAC came through the receiver in a thoughtful, sympathetic tone. He never used the video mode. "I have been apprised of the situation. I have also been updated on everything that has happened since then, including you firing Franklin Harriet."

Almost before Jacob could form the thought in his head of wondering how the GAC could possibly know so much, so fast, the obvious, yet still vague, answer soon followed. "I am well informed. As to Franklin, it is your crew, and you can hire and fire whomever you want. With consideration for your desperate rescue attempt—and make no mistake or delude yourself further about the odds of this having a happy outcome—I will give you everything you need to pull it off, but there will be an equal Quid Pro Quo on this one."

"Anything. Name it and it is done."

6

On the other end of the phone, the GAC knew the answer before given. Hanging up after explaining to Jacob the first and most immediate thing he needed to do, he left him with the knowledge the real cost would come some other day.

"Why do you always grant him so much favor? Sometimes I think you like him better than your own son." Atera, the wife of the GAC, asked.

"Hmm, my son," the GAC replied in a dubious manner, shifting his gaze out the window and down into their backyard where his fifteen year old son, Alexander Cain VI, rolled around on the ground with his two best friends, a couple of Cocker Spaniels.

The wise, old eyes, which seemed to see things clearly from a hundred years ago, were in this life only forty-five, but the weight of accumulated knowledge overtime made the GAC appear twenty years older. Moving from the window and over to his wife, he reached out with both hands, taking one of hers in each of his, and looked deeply into her eyes. "You know why."

Atera was only forty-four, and even though she appeared to be in her early sixties, she managed to retain much of her beauty, making it easier to conceal the apparently unnatural advancement of time. Disappointed by her husband's obscure reply, she pulled away from his hands and walked over to the same window he looked out.

"I am going to find a way to fix this. Your son will grow up to be a great man just like his father, and especially his father before him. There is nothing I cannot fix. You will see. Your son is going to live for a hundred years."

"Your passion is commendable. Regrettably, we all have our limitations, some made more clearly every day. No, my dear, I think the future lies elsewhere. You know, the one thing you have in common with Jacob, you both have an unflappable confidence when faced with against all odds situations, no matter the cost."

"By any means necessary," Atera said under her breath, spoken loud enough to give strength to her convictions as the GAC walked out of the room and hearing.

7

By any means necessary was the similar thought running through Jacob's head, proving the GAC nearly psychic. Only driven by a different motivating force, Jacob had a distinct moral-fortitude urging him forward against all odds. Almost equivalent to Atera's convictions, he was willing to do just about anything, finding himself back in the room where he laid on the floor reaching out for his fallen friend, only a few hours ago.

Much had changed down there in the interim. Bright lights illuminated every kook and cranny a shadow could hide. Camera equipment formed a U-shape ten feet back from around the hole in the floor Michael fell through, revealing the root cause behind his unexpected departure. Seen in the light, a private elevator shaft was visible once they cleared away the debris. Originally designed with a walk-in closet fascia, the elevator's passenger car remained intact, but inoperable. Stuck in place, a unique feature revealed a hidden trapdoor in the elevator floor. The odd exit suffered from the same years of decay the rest of the city endured. Barely attached by broken hinges, the trapdoor had flopped down and was loosely hanging. A busted latch meant to hold it shut, more than likely, gave way when Michael stepped on it.

Along with the lights and equipment, there were over a dozen people milling about doing certain tasks germane to their purpose for being there. Jacob felt a gradual claustrophobia starting to form in his mind. Now joined by a camera crew to record the rescue attempt, a few technicians to operate the electronic equipment, some clean-up workers, construction riggers, Bill—the network representative, GP Sally, and two newcomers on the scene by special order of the GAC.

In order to get the resources needed, Jacob had to adhere to two conditions before any rescue attempt, along with the favor to come at a later date. Under the first condition, the GAC told Jacob, "I am sending along a couple of HOUSE guests to keep you company." But he knew their real prime directive was preventing him from taking any risks. Something the second condition handily accomplished in forcing him to remain out of harm's way by having him broadcast the rescue attempt on live TV.

HOUSE—Hostile Operations Unit & Security Experts were an elite military unit, a modern day combination of Army Rangers, Navy Seals, and Special Forces, the best of the best. The old covert unit was the only division of the American Armed Forces still in existence, hidden in a top-secret section of the DOS. Created after WWII by the U.S. Government, the military used covert groups, like HOUSE, to extract Nazi scientists out of Germany. Then kept them hidden from the public in a top secret, underground military base somewhere in the Nevada desert, where they could continue doing their work for our country. They fabricated a cover story to occupy the curious minded with something else to focus on, preventing anyone from ever knowing the truth. Even at the present time, very few knew the real work done down there.

The people already had a natural paranoia of the unknown. Orson Welles fooled some of them into believing an actual alien invasion was taking place in 1938, with his infamous radio broadcast of H.G. Wells' War of the Worlds. It set the stage to use the Roswell landing hoax as a further ploy to convince conspiracy theorists the government was hiding something out in the desert on a mysterious military base, known only as Area 51. Since people were naturally suspicious of those in power and after the frightening paranoia of the Communist Red Scare during the Cold War, the logic of using a lie to hide and even bigger lie came as a natural solution and eventually standard practice, so much so, nobody ever knew the real truth about anything, except those closest to it.

Jacob's two HOUSE-guests, Kara Ross and Aidan May, were setting up their gear. Kara was a twenty-five year old, black-haired beauty with the petite figure of a world-class gymnast. She wore a black, skintight bodysuit, which accented every curve of her body as she stretched out and limbered up. Her partner was also twenty-five with dark hair, but that was where the resemblance ended. A big man with a body builder's physique, he was just finishing rigging an electronic hoist and pulley system, securing it to a winch bolted onto the floor with a concrete nail-gun. Once ready to go, Kara put on the video glasses Jacob wore and a bicycle-type helmet with a light attached to it. After confirming a video connection with the computer tech, she proceeded to strap on the harness used to lower her down through the elevator floor as some workmen finished removing the broken trapdoor.

Standing front and center of the elevator as Aidan hooked Kara up to the electronic hoist, Jacob did a sound check, while shooing away a woman trying to apply on-camera cover make-up on his face. "Test, testing, one, two, three, are you reading me?"

A sound tech simply gave him the thumbs up sign.

"Okay if everybody is ready, we will go live in one, two," Jacob directed the cameraman with raised fingers matching his count, except for the silent third finger to signify action.

"Hello, this is Jacob Rose with a Special Live Report. I want to start by first saying this is not business as usual, this story is personal. I also want to send out my deepest apologies to Eve Adams for any unnecessary heartache an erroneous, earlier report might have caused you. I promise you, Eve, we will get him back." Jacob paused after making his personal comment before addressing his home audience.

"You see, Michael is not only the best researcher in the business, he is also my best friend and I feel responsible...No, wait. I am responsible for him being here. And while this may be of little comfort, after fruitlessly searching the wrong site based on false research, Michael took it upon himself to go out and find the old government's hidden biohazard lab."

In the background, Kara held onto Aidan's strong shoulders as he used a remote control to retract the cord attached to the base bar she stood on. It lifted her up by the feet as Aidan gently guided her back to the elevator until she hung upside down over the trapdoor.

"We discovered a significant sign of hope after clearing away the debris. This private elevator, once made to look like a normal walk-in closet, concealed a trapdoor in the floor my good friend fell through when first exploring the site. Although we are positive this facility is the secret lab, we cannot confirm at this time whether or not this is where Alan Vanderbrock VI, the deluded Environmental Biologist, created the virus that killed off half the world's population by 2025. Though, there are some telling signs indicating he was here at one time."

Jacob walked over to where Kara was hanging upside down over the elevator ready to descend headfirst into the shaft as he pointed out her destination.

"In order to allow easier access for Kara, our lovely rescue specialist, we removed the broken trapdoor in the elevator floor."

Kara smiled and waved at the camera before turning on her helmet light. She had a slight Asian appearance in her deep, dark eyes to go along with her straight, black hair and small, slender frame.

Tentatively looking down the shaft, Jacob commented on some interesting facts about the elevator.

"Other than the oddly placed trapdoor, there are many strange things afoot down here. For example, this passageway descends over twenty feet beyond where the bottom of the shaft should end, since there are no floors below it. So why is it there and where does it lead? And while the rest of the facility appears to have gone through some sort of orderly evacuation, this labs looks like a war zone hit it. Everything in here has been smashed and broken, including the busted in lab door." Jacob walked around the room directing the cameraman where to focus, getting a close-up shot of the heavily damaged door.

Heading back to the elevator, Jacob checked in with Kara. "Are you ready to go, Kara?"

Kara gave an upside down thumbs up as Aidan handed her the remote control.

"All right, then," Jacob said, motioning over to the computer monitor set up behind him. "We are going to join Kara on her journey by following along on this computer screen."

Jacob nodded to Kara, who pressed the button on the remote control and started lowering herself down the shaft. Once out of view, Jacob shifted focus to the monitor, while giving commentary.

The video images came in fuzzy before clearing up into a dark tunnel vision view.

"With this digital counter, we can see how deep the shaft goes. So far, Kara has gone about six feet." Jacob informed the viewers at home. "We are now reaching eight feet down. So let's check in with Kara for an on the spot report. Kara, can you give us your perspective of things?"

Descending headfirst down an unknown shaft might cause the average person's pulse to race or their blood pressure to rise, but for someone with Kara's nerves of steel, her heart rate barely registered above normal. The shaft's rough clay walls appeared dug out by hand. Jacob's words came through her helmet receiver, but she could not offer a different outlook other than the one they were getting.

"If you are seeing what I am, there is nothing but darkness beyond the reach of my headlamp's beam." Kara replied in a regretful manner.

Approaching a depth of fifteen feet, Kara started to make something out another five feet down, taking her by surprise. "Hey, are you getting this up there?"

Up on top, looking at the computer screen with squinting eyes, hoping for a clearer picture, the fuzzy image also caught Jacob by surprise. "Is that the bottom of the shaft?"

A few feet from some sort of strange surface, Kara performed an acrobatic aerial maneuver within the confines of the tight space only someone with her diminutive stature would be capable of pulling off. She flipped herself around into an upright position a few inches from the unfamiliar ground. Looking down at the unknown surface, one thing became instantly clear. Michael was not there.

"Mr. Ross, I cannot explain this. There appears to be some kind of artificial surface."

Jacob could not find his voice at first, left in a state of confusion over the whereabouts of his missing friend. "I don't get it. Where is Michael?"

Kara scanned the entire area in a clockwise motion, shining her light on every inch of space, getting a complete reconnaissance of the area. Spotting a foreign object in the shadows, Kara focused her light on it, illuminating Michael's hat. "I got something here. Can you see it up there?"

"That is Michael's hat." Jacob said in an excited utterance, startling Kara a second. "He had it on when he fell, but where is he?"

Kara lowered herself down enough to place her feet on the mysterious surface in order retrieve the hat for Jacob. But the ground beneath her folded in and opened up a space in the center the moment she placed her weight on it. Diverted by the unexpected change, Kara just missed catching the hat before it slid through the open space.

"Wow, what the...." Kara's startled voice rose up as she held onto her support cable for balance. "I think I know where he went."

The Stetson tumbled down a long, sliding tunnel similar to a laundry chute, until finally falling out a vent on a concrete wall. It fluttered down several feet and rolled down a large sand pile before coming to a rest against a motionless hand.

# CHAPTER SIX

### FALLING UP

Almost as if the hat contained the rejuvenating power of a Sleeping Beauty wakeup kiss, the index finger on the hand twitched a few times before gaining movement in the rest of the fingers as they slowly stretched out and gripped hold of the Stetson. Getting up on weary, wounded knees, picking up and dusting the hat off with a few good shakes before putting it on his head, Michael took a moment to gather his wits as he tried to get a sense of where he ended up.

Looking around in the dampened dark, Michael could only see slight shadows cast off from light creeping through unknown fissures as he attempted to figure out where he was and how he got there. A foul stench permeated the air, reminding him of the putrid odor of a wet dog. Still on his knees, Michael took off his Go-Bag and retrieved a glow-stick emergency light from inside the well-equipped bag. With a quick twist, break, and shake, the contents mixed inside the cracked capsule and the twelve-inch stick began to glow in the dark.

Holding the yellow glow-stick above his head, Michael stood up and looked around to see if he could tell what he fell out of from a perspective of where he landed. Spotting what appeared to be an access duct about ten feet above the large sand pile he and his hat rolled down, Michael quickly concluded he would not be getting out the same way he came in. Turning around, he could feel a slight draft coming from the only other source of light seeping through some narrow cracks in front of him.

Squatting down, Michael took out several more glow-sticks from his Go-Bag. Cracking one open, he put the others in his pocket and threw the first one out in front of him. The small, yellow light didn't offer much illumination, but it was enough for Michael to make out his broken flashlight a few feet away, also revealing the narrowing space in front of him.

Knowing he no longer had his tracker, an alert realization prompted Michael to reach into the Go-Bag for his phone. Unable to get any reception, he let out a dejected sigh as his renewed hope swiftly faded. Feeling a bit discombobulated from his unintended tumble, Michael went into his trusty Go-Bag one more time for some sustenance in form of a protein snack bar and a bottle of water to help clear his head.

Taking a few sips of water and small bites from the protein bar, Michael did not think anyone would be coming to rescue him anytime soon, considering they would not know where to look or have the means to get there if they did. He came to the conclusion he must have fallen into an old escape tunnel devised by The Environmentalist, and the only way out would be to follow the same path he once took. But something happened to the original route. The years of decay affected it, too. Michael figured he must have fallen out a collapsed section of the tunnel chute, more than likely caused by a sinkhole.

Looking back at the hole he fell out of, Michael lined up his most direct route, where he could feel the draft straight ahead of him. Gathering up his supplies, the wayward researcher made his way over toward the unknown, new frontier. In his hurried egress, Michael picked up the water bottle and accidentally left the partially eaten protein bar behind. Lighting another glow-stick after moving ahead of the first one, he threw it out in front of him, exposing more of the narrowing space, forcing him to crouch down lower and lower the closer he got. He was practically crawling on his hands and knees by the time he reached the mouth of the tunnel. Feeling the draft sucking the air into a hole about the same size as the one he fell out of, Michael took out another glow-stick, cracked and shook it on before tossing it inside to shed a little light on the path ahead of him.

Michael noticed the broken edge of the tunnel chute sticking out of the dirt a few inches below the entrance hole. The cave-in buried the rest of it under his feet, with dirt covering the intact remaining section, which verified he was heading in the right direction and thankfully big enough for him to squeeze through.

Just before entering the tunnel, Michael shot a startled look behind him. He was unable to escape the feeling he was being watched. Nearly positive he could hear something scurrying around in the dark, he tossed the glow-stick in his hand behind him and had another one out and lit almost before the first one hit the ground. He did not see anything to cause him alarm, including the missing protein bar.

Crawling down the tunnel on his hands and knees, Michael pushed his Go-Bag out in front of him due to the reduced area in the confined space. Less than ten feet in, without warning, he came upon a steep incline, which sent him and the Go-Bag swiftly sliding down an unobstructed part of the sharply sloping chute.

Popping out a vent located two feet above a wooden floor and landing on a king-size mattress, Michael found himself in a large, concealed room cast in dark shadows from the dim gleam of the discarded glow-stick, along with slivers of light visible through ceiling cracks. Once again finding the need to get his bearings after the abrupt entrance left him disoriented, the reluctant adventurer lit another glow-stick, leaving him with only three in reserve. After re-locating his Go-Bag and strapping it on his back, he picked up his hat and dusted it off against his pant leg before returning it to its proper place.

Stepping forward in the shadowy darkness, Michael's foot came down on a foreign object, momentarily throwing him off balance. He bent down and picked up a piece of a brand-name trademark fashioned in brass letters spelling out W-U-R-L-I-T-Z with the last letters broken off on a jagged edge. Holding the strange object in his hand brought on a sense memory, providing Michael with a valuable clue to his whereabouts.

With the meager light generated from the glow-stick and the ceiling cracks, Michael could barely make out what appeared to be a countertop attached to the wall. Gently placing each foot down to make sure he was on solid ground before proceeding any further—once bitten, twice shy—he cautiously walked over to the wall. Safely navigating his way on a secure terrain, he tested the countertop's sturdiness with a few hard hand knocks before setting his Go-Bag on it.

Getting out his CPU Notepad and turning it on, the monitor screen powered up and brought about an overlooked light source, illuminating the room enough to see the shape of things previously invisible to the naked eye. Michael spotted something on the end of the countertop that caused him to let out a brief, snorting laugh, amused by the ironic twist of his latest discovery, also grateful he could still find humor in his precarious situation.

Reaching over and picking up a dusty, old-fashioned kerosene-lantern, his widening smile turned into a smirking grin after giving it a shake and hearing the sound of liquid splashing around inside.

"Can I really be this lucky?" Michael wondered aloud, not taking into consideration how he got there in the first place.

He retrieved a box of blue-tip, strike-anywhere matches from his Go-Bag. Taking a deep whiff of the stale air, Michael didn't smell or sense the presence of any foreign substances contaminating the room, and reasoned it would be safe to light the lantern, knowing the risk of introducing a spark to an untested environment. Even though he could not smell any gaseous elements, there were any number of colorless, odorless combustibles a single flame could ignite, like methane and other natural gases.

Striking the match after lifting off the glass case, he held the burning flame to the exposed wick with mentally crossed fingers. As the wick caught fire, Michael replaced the glass case, letting out a sigh of relief for obtaining a brighter outlook of his current surroundings, while also avoiding the incendiary reaction of blowing himself to smithereens.

Walking around using the lantern to get a lay of the room, Michael came upon some intriguing clues leading him to a hypothetical theory he needed to corroborate. The room appeared to be some kind of sub-basement root cellar that someone converted into a workshop, but it also seemed oddly familiar. Michael felt a chill run up his spine, congruent to the strange sense of déjà vu he found almost as hard to escape as his current dilemma.

On the other side of the room, the lantern's shine revealed something leaning against the wall. With the dust-covered years wearing down anything left exposed to the elements, Michael had a hard time figuring out what he found stacked against the wall.

Fingering through what looked like a bunch of frameless paintings with faded images and worn away letters, Michael started getting a clearer picture that what he found were actually antique poster-boards from movies, musicals, ice shows, and television programs of days long gone by. The titles now reduced to missing letter crosswords puzzles, leaving the gamer to fill in the blanks.

_KO pres___ The Anim__ _ingd__

_onga Hen____ _tar_ __ Ice

NB_ Voic_ __ _irstone

The old, laminated poster-boards were not the only clues stimulating Michael's sense of familiarity with the place. He caught sight of three long, thin shadows in the corner of the room, which turned out to be the legs of a video camera tripod set up a few feet from where the corners of the walls met with a chair placed in front of it. Thrown into a full-throttle memory search, Michael used the downloaded files on New York City contained in his notepad to augment his remembrance.

Pulling up the data on Rockefeller Center and the Vanderbrock family tree, Michael followed clues revealing answers his own intuitive nature never expected to find. Things started falling into place and making sense of the discovered artifacts. The Vanderbrock's were an old, well-established New York family, one of the original Dutch settlers, who rumor had it, were cheated out of their property rights in Rockefeller Center. The family's claim to the land dated back nearly fifty years before the Center's construction. Daniel R. Vanderbrock III (the black sheep of the family—until his great grandnephew, Alan, came along) was a drunken dullard who got swindled out of the property rights by a couple of grifters after he traded them for the rights to the newly erected Brooklyn Bridge, forever coining the saying, "If you believe that one, I got a bridge I'd like to sell you", and the not so well-known, "Dumber than Daniel". The family always maintained their claim to the land and even invested in Rockefeller Center when construction began during the tumultuous years of the Great Depression. They just happened to invest in the only building ever torn down at the iconic Center.

The old RKO Roxy opened in 1932. A movie palace meant to be a sister theatre to the very successful Radio City Music Hall, but it never achieved the same fame as that highly renowned venue. However, the most interesting fact to Michael was the name of the first film to premiere there, _The Animal Kingdom_ , providing him with some puzzle pieces (letters actually) to help him start filling in the blanks.

The more information he uncovered, the more blanks got filled.

After a successful lawsuit by the original Roxy Theatre, a forced name change re-dubbed it the Center Theatre, also switching their scheduled entertainment to plays and musicals, which unfortunately did not make any improvement on its popularity.

In 1940, the theatre found short-time success when converted into an Ice Skating theatre featuring the very popular Sonja Henie, which led to the filling in of more blanks after noticing the name of one of her many shows was _Stars on Ice._

By the 1950's, the novelty of ice show spectaculars wore off, leading to more filled in blanks when the theatre changed, again. This time into a television studio for NBC, which aired classical music and operas on the Voice of Firestone program until 1954. Not long after, they replaced the theatre with the U.S. Rubber Company Building.

With most of the puzzle pieces neatly fitting into place, Michael was able to formulate a credible theory about his present location as the tripod proved to be the most significant piece. Running it through his mind, it started to make sense. Although he never expected to find it, this had to be The Environmentalist's secret lab where he filmed his suicide confession video he streamed live.

Except now, Michael needed to find a way out so he could tell everybody of this latest discovery, however fortuitously fallen upon. But the room had no windows or doors or any way out other than the way he came in, which could not be an exit, too. Michael started searching for a concealed door or a hidden lever, feeling around the walls and under the countertop table, where he pulled out a metal draw, which had a book inside it.

Sidetracked by an obscure, prescient notion he just found the most important book since the Prophet Warrior unearthed The Book of Tomorrows, Michael temporarily forgot about his search for an exit. Trying not to disturb the contents, wanting to preserve the integrity of the find, he tried to make out the title through the cloudy, oxidized zip-sealed bag used to preserve it. The words on the cover were legible enough to read the author's name, Michael James Carducci, and the title, _When You See After Dark._

Feeling bit overwhelmed, Michael thought he just slipped into some sort of déjà vu city—his own private Twilight Zone—where whatever he saw or touched recalled some past memory he was certain he never had before. He was sure he never heard of the book, much less read it. But there was something familiar about those words, almost as if he could hear them spoken in some distance, unknown memory living deep in his subconscious.

Deciding not to let the mystery distract him any longer, he tucked the book safely away in an airtight, sealed compartment of his Go-Bag, thinking to himself, 'if I ever get out of here, this might prove the unexpected journey worth the trip' _._

Continuing his desperate search for an exit, the pressing need to get moving started to make the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end, causing him to try and expedite his departure. Struck cold by another alarming thought, the thing he could not put his finger on before was not about what was here, but what wasn't. Where were the remains of Alan Vanderbrock VI, who killed himself in this very room after filming his incoherent, rambling confession? Since no one ever knew this place existed, and he had to be the first person to set foot in here since—most likely, the only person—there should at least be some skeletal remains.

Michael suddenly couldn't escape the feeling of being watched, making his flesh creep as he began stumbling around the room with a jittery nervous abandon of a scared child frightened by a ghost story. Pressing his back against the countertop, his left heel bumped against one of the table legs, causing it to slide back and click into place. A concealed trapdoor in the floor flopped down.

Stepping into another dark, narrow, cavernous passageway, Michael went down his second metaphorical rabbit-hole into an unknown land, only this time he had the lantern to help guide his way. A cold, damp draft permeated the air, along with the same wet dog smell from the other side. He left the exit door, camouflaged as part of the top of the cave, open for the day when he hoped to return to investigate the site more thoroughly and under much improved conditions.

The trapdoor opened at the end of the cavernous passage and opposed to the other side got wider the farther Michael moved forward, traveling along on a slight downgrade. Starting out with only a three foot space to maneuver, the passageway widened into a big open space after about fifty yards. It came out at the bottom of a gully leading up to a rocky ridge. The ground ahead turned damp, and he could hear the distinct sound of running water coming from where the ridge crested two hundred feet in front of him. There was a guiding beacon coming from a dim light at the end of the tunnel, providing more illumination for his mind than vision for his eyes. A research memory dawned on Michael, triggering a recollection of an article he read about an old abandoned passageway in between 49th St. and 7th Avenue that led to the underground concourse at Rockefeller Center. Never finished for some reason, it supposedly connected through a concealed, out of service subway tunnel. Although never used by the public during its time, Michael believed it was the most logical route for The Environmentalist to take when secretively traveling back and forth to his lair.

Positive as Michael was about this being the same way out used by The Environmentalist, he was also pretty sure it wasn't underwater when he did. Reaching the crest of the ridge, he found himself immersed by a subaquatic quandary after seeing the path ahead was totally submerged, leaving him only two options—go back or go for another exploratory swim.

Michael knew he really had only one choice, and it was not one anybody would envy. Deciding to take a short respite, he removed the Go-Bag to inventory its contents and see what he could dispense with to lighten the load. It would be a difficult enough swim without the benefit of scuba gear, an arduously treacherous journey not knowing if there was a way out or if he could find one before running out of air. But he felt he didn't have much of a choice. Going back the way he came would not work any better than waiting around for a rescue, even though he knew Jacob would be doing everything in his power to find him. Regrettably, it might take too long.

Assessing his food and water rations, Michael had at least two days before attempting his hazardously indeterminate voyage. Nonetheless, the thought of staying here any longer than he had to didn't sound too desirable, either. He could not shake the distinct, creepy feeling something was watching him.

Aside from the food and water, Michael also removed his CPU Notepad, a first-aid kit, a compact tent, and other camping equipment, along with two short swords neatly concealed in the sides of the Go-Bag's structural lining. The swords were for protection when exploring unstable sites, since only members of the DOS with the highest security levels had firearm permits. The NRA was a long extinct entity, along with the gun violence that use to pervasively infect our culture with the arrogant assertion of the right to bear arms being more sacred than other's right to keep living.

Leaving most of this stuff behind didn't bother Michael, except he did regret sacrificing his swords. Not because he believed he would need them, or any of the other things he discarded, the swords had a sentimental value in being gifts from Jacob on their first expedition. After securing his valuable find, along with his hat—the one personal possession he refused to sacrifice, since his mother gave it to him—Michael noticed something about the ridge he should have seen right off, causing his nervous apprehension to rise up again. Figuring he was a bit distracted when first coming upon it (after all he did have a lot on his mind), he decided to give himself a break for his unprofessional observation as he now realized the alarmingly unavoidable conclusion. The ridge could not have formed naturally. Something had to make it. But what could have done it? He knew one thing for sure. He was not alone down here.

Standing up, he walked over to the base of the ridge, leaving the Go-Bag behind, instinctively taking along one of his swords and the lantern. Using the tip of the sword to poke at the ground, Michael noticed the ridge had formed from rocks and mud, but could also see pieces of driftwood mixed in with a variety of garbage, junk, and other wasteful materials pushed into place until it built up enough to form a makeshift dam. He then realized the whole area would have been flooded if the ridge never existed, which would have prevented his escape through the lab's trapdoor.

Hearing movement coming from behind, he whirled around with sword in hand and lantern held high. Stunned and amazed by the sight of a rodent-like creature of unusually large size foraging through his food supply, Michael blinked his eyes in rapid progression, hoping it was just a mirage. It appeared to be an evolved hybrid of a species of common sewer rat and a mole, only much bigger. Michael did not know what attributed to its unusual size of about six feet in length from tip of tail to its pug-nose snout. He also sensed it might be blind or had very poor vision as it sniffed around the ground tearing at the protein bar packaging with its long, talon-like claws. It had short, grey hair, and he estimated its weight between one-hundred-sixty and one-hundred-seventy pounds. Stepping around, he attempted to move downwind of the creature.

As Michael's foot came down on a lose rock, causing it to roll down the ridge, the strange creature before him lifted its head and snorted at the air, letting out two high-pitched snarls in his direction. Bracing himself with sword ready to strike, he gently placed the lantern down and removed one of the glow-sticks from his pocket. Cracking it open in one hand as quietly as possible, he shook the stick and threw it as far away from the Go-Bag as he could, keeping the sword ready in case the diversion didn't work.

The mole rat looked over in the direction of the glow-stick the moment it hit the ground. Hesitant to leave its newly acquired food behind, the hybrid creature's curiosity got the better of it. Heading over to investigate any unwanted intruder trying to hoard in on its find, the mole rat let out a few threatening snarls in the direction of the glow-stick.

Moving slowly down the ridge and over to his indispensable belongings, Michael wanted to grab the Go-Bag, leave the food, and slip away unnoticed, only he needed a free hand to do it. He set the lantern lightly down on the ground without making a sound, thinking it best to keep the sword at ready. Picking up the Go-Bag by its shoulder strap, a small rock caught up in the folds of the bag fell out, lightly clinking off another rock. It barely made a sound, but enough noise to alert the hungry creature.

The mole rat let out an angry snarl. Kicking up dirt and rocks with claws digging into the ground, it charged full bore straight at Michael. Misjudging the beast's speed, the mole rat quickly made up the ground between them. Standing his ground, Michael held the short sword straight out in front of him. Leaping up in the air less than three feet away, the large, heavy beast slammed into him with a thudding force. The sword impaled the mole rat on top of Michael, piercing it through the chest as they both fell backwards to the ground, causing the Go-Bag to fly a few feet away.

Badly wounded and bleeding profusely, the mole rat still tried to bite and claw at Michael, barely missing his face. With his right hand pinned down from the weight on top of him, Michael reached out with his left hand for the other short sword, only a few inches from his fingertips. Pushing up with all the strength he could muster, Michael shifted his weight enough to be able to grip the hilt of the other sword and thrust it up and into the mole rat's head, instantly killing it.

Rolling the mole rat's body off of him became much easier once it was dead. Michael laid there for a moment catching his breath after freeing himself. While still on the ground, he looked around for the Go-Bag and could make it out in the shadows, about ten feet in front of him. Getting to his feet, he reached down and pulled the short sword out of the dead creature's head, before walking over and retrieving the lantern.

Shining the light over in the direction of the Go-Bag, Michael quickly became aware his surreal, woken nightmare had only just begun. About a dozen more mole rats were coming out of previously unnoticed cavernous passages dug into the earth, drawn out by the smell of the fresh-kill. They sniffed the air snarling at each other, even biting at others in close proximity as they headed right toward Michael in direct line between him and the Go-Bag.

Michael reacted without hesitation, knowing his dire circumstances would prevent him from getting away with his valuable find unless he tried a desperate move. Throwing the lantern five feet in front of the converging mole rats, it crashed on the hard ground and burst into a short, blazing fire, giving him cover enough to grab the Go-Bag.

The heat from the fire sent the mole rats scurrying in all directions, some of them bumping into one another, which only brought on more snarling and biting. They were starting to flank Michael on both sides, still drawn by the smell of the fresh-kill and the blood all over him. Securing the Go-Bag on his back and keeping the short sword at ready, his situation forced him to make a desperate escape as he ran up the ridge.

Standing on the crest of the ridge, Michael looked back to see how far away the mole rats were and saw most of them converging on the carcass of their fallen brethren, ripping and tearing into its dead flesh in a cannibalistic feeding frenzy. Choking back his disgust, Michael was surprised to see one of the mole rats, who could not squeeze in with the others, must have caught wind of his blood soaked clothes and was heading toward him. Deciding on flight instead of fight, he jammed his sword into the ridge, and left it standing sentinel. As he dove into the water, one last thought ran through his mind. 'I sure hope they are only a hybrid of moles and rats, and not beavers, too'.

The cold, dark water offered little comfort without the benefit of his insulated wetsuit, chilling Michael to the bone and giving him concerns of succumbing to hypothermia before running out of air. Taking out his last two glow-sticks, he cracked and shook on both of them to try an increase his vision. The old three rules of survival kept playing out in his head—you can survive three weeks without food, three days without water, but only three minutes without air—and how many precious seconds had he wasted already. With only one direction to go, Michael started swimming down the dark tunnel, hoping it led to a subway platform.

He saw an actual sign of encouragement indicating the 49th St. subway station was up ahead somewhere. But how far up ahead? It had already been almost a minute since first hitting the water and he was still in the old abandoned access tunnel. The out of service, underground passageway leading to Rockefeller Center was constructed back in 1940 and connected to a new office tower on the northeast corner of 49th St. and 7th Ave., where the northbound platform concealed the entrance to the hidden tunnel.

Coming up on two minutes, Michael could feel his joints starting to cramp from the frigid water. For the first time since waking up from his fall, he started to lose hope of ever making it out alive. The thought of coming this far with only a slim chance that anyone would ever find his body, preventing his important discovery from being found, propelled him onward in a desperate search for a way out.

A sinking feeling hit Michael like a heavy anchor dragging him all the way down to Davy Jones' Locker as he came upon an impassable barricade created by a collapsed section of tunnel, combined with a subway car wedged in between. It totally cut Michael off from the 49th St. platform, only a few feet beyond the obstruction. Almost out of breath, panic set in as he frantically swam around looking for a way through. Swimming up to the top of the tunnel in a last ditch effort to seek out an air pocket, Michael managed to catch a few quick breaths after finding a space just big enough for him to stick the tip of his nose out of the water. The splashing waves created from him treading water started to fill his nostrils before he could get any more relief. While up there, he caught sight of a release valve to an access shaft out of the corner of his eye, and decided it was the last and only choice left to him.

Reaching the wheel, Michael barely had the strength left to turn it, but had some luck on his side and found it moveable. After managing a few full turns, he only had enough strength left for another half turn before losing consciousness. As he began floating down with his arms extended above his head, the hatch opened. The force of water rushing up the previously empty shaft carried Michael with it.

The other end of the shaft was also sealed shut, but the thrust of the water blasted it open with such force it ripped the hatch off and sent it sky rocketing up to the surface.

Just as Jacob and GP Sally were coming up out of the docking ramp in the electric cart, the hatch burst out of the water and shot up in the air over twenty feet. It came crashing down on the dock a few feet from them. A few seconds later, Michael flew up ten feet out of the water and fell back in, floating face down and motionless

CHAPTER SEVEN

### FOUR FUNERALS AND A WEDDING

1

Real panic started to set in with all the frenzied, hectic fussing about. So many hands poking, jabbing, and sticking with this and that, or demands to turn this way or that, just so they could get a better look at the sideshow freak, it was enough to make you want to scream out at the top of your lungs for everyone to "STOP!" But somehow could only pleasantly reply with grateful nods and a pleasing smile. Waiting for this moment to come felt like it would take forever, if at all, still a nagging uncertainty persisted. The stomach-churning situation could not be allowed to continue and called for an immediate, last resort, desperate act to set things right.

Jumping down off the round dressing stand, wearing a long, flowing, traditional wedding gown, Eve ran straight for the door. Bursting out into the warm air on a late afternoon, mid-October Saturday, she sprinted by confused onlookers, leaving behind her maid-of-honor and bridesmaids with similarly perplexed expressions. Hurrying past the high-rising statuary columns lining the outer lobby, she headed into the east wing of the famous colossal structure.

Taking a couple of seconds to get her bearings, Eve stood there like a little girl lost. She could hear whispered, hushed voices coming from all around her, but didn't pay any more attention to them than she did to an actual offer of assistance coming from a Good Samaritan.

"Excuse me. Are you okay? May I help you with something?" a young woman asked.

Brushing by the young woman after gaining a visual sense of her destination, Eve continued on her frantic flight. So much had happened in the three months since Michael's accident made such a big splash on the news. His story played out in the media as a strange hybrid of the-little-boy-who-fell-down-a-well, with the added twist of the boy coming back up with the Dead Sea Scrolls. Hailed as a hero for his dramatic escape and rescue, Michael didn't come through his, now famous, adventure unscathed or without any physical infirmities. After spending six weeks in a coma, with Eve refusing to leave his side the entire time, his Lazarus-like rise from the dead gained almost as much attention as his accidental expedition. Suffering no permanent injury or deformity, the healing process did not leave any physical scars, only deep, emotional, psychological ponderings about life and death he would soon find helpful during the defining moment of his life.

Michael was not the only one reluctantly thrust into the spotlight. Eve's moment in the sun didn't fit her any more comfortably than his did. Their wedding went from a small, cozy, backyard service with a few close friends to the second biggest event of the year, next to the Centennial celebration a few months ago. Given full media coverage, the event started earlier that day with a parade held in Michael's honor down the old Las Vegas strip and ending at Caesar's Palace, where the GAC would perform the ceremony just before sunset.

Eve didn't mind the parade, since Michael seemed to enjoy it. Not for any of the admiration shown to him, but because it must have felt somewhat akin to the homecoming celebration those courageously intrepid astronauts received after the first moon landing. They also were hailed as heroes not for who they were, but because what they bravely accomplished. She was thankful for at least being able to wear a more comfortable dress during the parade, instead of the big, bulky (she had to admit beautiful) wedding gown her friends insisted on her getting after everything got so blown out of proportion.

Not all of the changes over the last three months were for the better or seen in a positive light. Max and Jean had to deal with blowback from the FWF concerning Michael's newfound fame, along with the rebel group losing faith in Eve to accomplish her mission. Her not being pregnant didn't help. According to Max (Jean kept direct contact to a minimum), the leaders of the FWF believed Eve had been won over by all the lavished attention poured on Michael, letting their increasing paranoia get the better of them. Although, it wasn't just Michael's recent celebrity causing the disturbance in the rebel force. A much darker power started taking shape, putting everyone on edge, unsure who could and could not be trusted.

Tragic hardships had befallen three different people connected to Michael and Eve, giving some credence to the old adage about bad things happening in threes. Inauspiciously, none of them had the same charmed, well-healed outcome Michael's did. Found dead two weeks after Jacob fired him, Franklin Harriet expired in his apartment for no apparent reason. An autopsy later revealed he had died almost a week before, but could not determine the exact cause of death. Due to his anonymity, the minor mystery gathered little attention at the time, mostly because all the focus was on Michael. Next, after a healthy, normal pregnancy throughout most of her term, Hilary Edwards unexpectedly went into labor eight weeks early and gave premature birth with one of the twins stillborn. Hilary started to suffer from postpartum depression right after, making wild accusations about how the government killed her baby, claiming they gave her something to induce labor. Her irrational behavior led to her being hospitalized at her husband's request, fearing she might harm herself or their newborn son, who she displayed a total disinterest in his care and seemed to blame the child. If fate had taken another turn, Hilary would have been one of Eve's bridesmaids, along with Kim, Bridget, and Amanda, with Jackie as her maid of honor.

It wasn't until the third tragic hardship that things started getting real tense when a bomb blast killed Michael's father. A fringe group supposedly broke off from the FWF to impose harsher methods of accomplishing their goals. No one knew for sure if the fringe group calling themselves the AFW—Absolute Free Will—had any affiliation with the FWF, but proving the negative would be nearly impossible. Naturally, everyone in the rebel group denied their association and disavowed any knowledge of their actions. But the real question was, if they weren't part of the FWF, where did they come from, and how did they become such a powerful voice so fast?

In order for any covert group to survive in New America, they needed to employ tactics popular in the days of guerilla warfare, operating from independent mission cells, existing separate from each other, but all working towards one specific goal—the Free Will to live their lives as they choose. And not by somebody else's decree.

Yet, one of the biggest problems for any secret organization to overcome had always been the unavoidable fallout of somebody else doing something in your name. You could always try to defend yourself, which might lead to your capture or untimely death, also taking into account the more you denied something, the guiltier people thought you were. Trust was always a big issue. The important thing to remember in the espionage game was the simple, probable assumption that if you were doing it, chances were somebody else was doing it, too.

Afterwards, Eve wanted to tell Michael what she knew, but didn't want to spoil everything for him with all the hoopla heaped upon their, now extravagant, wedding. It wasn't until she saw her reflected self in the large dressing mirror, wearing the stunning and beautifully elegant, sweeping white gown, Eve felt compelled to get to Michael as quickly as she could, not wanting to waste another second and tell him the truth, for it had gone on far too long and gotten way too big to put off any longer, no matter the cost.

2

Just like every other day, Big Mike Francis woke up that morning grumpy, irritable, and pissed off at the world, never knowing it would be his last. Not that it made much difference to him. Big Mike had really stopped living a longtime ago and basically spent his days waiting around to die. A short, stocky, bitter man, who could only find joy in the misery of others, he spent his life working a job he hated to somehow be attached to his failed career dream of becoming an All-Star baseball player, which ended up making him even more of an ill-tempered grouch when the only work he could get was chauffeuring around his favorite team's biggest rival.

Disappointment seemed to follow Big Mike throughout every aspect of his life. Although, there were many who wished they could have been fortunate enough to have what he once had. But he threw it all away because they didn't fit in with his master plan.

Raised by loving parents in a stable family environment, Big Mike dismissed the nurturing, watchful eye of his caring mother as an overbearing burden. When all she wanted was to help guide him through life, setting him on the path best suited to bring him happiness. His father encouraged him to strive to do the best he could at whatever he chose to do. With the old man possessing only average skills, making him just good enough to play catcher for the Las Vegas Dodgers, the sound advice passed through empty ears too arrogant to understand you don't have to be better than everybody else was, just the best you can be, which will lead you to true self-fulfillment.

Big Mike's unfulfilled dreams of athletic glory far surpassed his father's, believing the advantage of growing up around his one true love would be a blessing, but in the end became more of a curse when he couldn't make the cut. No matter how much he failed to show them appreciation, his parents always remained supportive. His father even helped him get a job connected to the sport he loved so much.

The lack of appreciation he showed to the people in his life did not end with his parents and got worse as the years went by. It is hard to believe anyone could find displeasure in the beautiful, young woman chosen to be his SBP mate, except Big Mike could find fault in a big, bright rainbow after a sun shower on a lovely spring day. Michael's mother, Angelica, was a sweet-natured woman, who on the other hand no one would blame if she rejected Big Mike. A tender, sensual lover, Angelica did everything in her power to make him happy, including giving birth to a healthy son. The thing Big Mike could never tell anyone, the reason he was so sexually disinterested in her, derived from the fact she reminded him of his mother with her gentle, caring ways. Unable to explain why he found her so unappealing, he decided to stick it out until after their kid grew up, which became his one ray of hope. He thought maybe a son might follow his father's dream of making it to the big league, and then he could live vicariously through his kid's accomplishments.

The biggest disappointment in Big Mike's life turned out to be his son, especially as a child. A skinny, awkward kid, who took more after his mother with a strong love of art, literature, music, and movies—things his father found rather useless. One of the few good times shared between father and son came from the time when he taught Michael, a natural lefty, how to throw righty, something he adapted to without much effort, just not to the desired effect his father had in mind.

Never a big sports fan, learning to throw right-handed allowed Michael to become more proficient and equally versatile using a sword with either hand. It was one physical activity he really loved. His father didn't care for swordplay, which had become very popular over the years from the country's love of the Prophet Warrior. Swords reminded Big Mike of his failure as a baseball player, being too uncoordinated to handle the speed of the ancient art, subsequent to the fact he couldn't hit a fastball.

Estranged for many years, the great divide between father and son grew to the size of the Grand Canyon at Michael's mother's funeral. During a loving eulogy given by her somber son, Michael claimed all the good in him came directly from her, to which his father took exception, saying something forever crossing the line on the way out of the memorial service, burying any relationship they had right alongside his mother.

Feeling the hand clamping down hard on his shoulder, Michael didn't need to turn around. He knew who wanted his attention even before hearing the words whispered in his ear from behind.

"Let me tell you something, boy. The best part of me she ever got must have run down her leg or else you would be more of a real man like your father."

Michael pulled free from the strong grip as he turned to facedown the old man with a hard stare of fiery rage, making his father flinch and take a few backward steps.

Confoundedly bemused by his father's unexpected rush of fear, Michael snorted out a sarcastic snicker with a lyrical retort. "How you dare to tell me that I'm my father's son when that was just an accident of birth. I will never be a man like you"

It was the last thing Michael ever said to his father. He never forgave him for the repulsive, vile remarks directed toward his deceased mother, who couldn't speak on her own behalf—not that she ever said a harsh word to anyone.

Big Mike spent his last hours on earth sulking around the empty baseball stadium on his day off. His job granted him 24/7 access, making the stadium one of his favorite places to go when nobody was there. Oftentimes he would stand on the pitcher's mound and pretend to be throwing a no-hitter—even though he tried out for catcher—or else he would stand in the batter's box calling his shot before hitting a game winning grand slam, running the bases with cheers from a roaring crowd in his head and nowhere else.

Today was different, though. He didn't feel like going through his normal routine. It had nothing to do with the fact the Chicago Cubs were out of the World Series for the first time when the Dodgers came back and won in extra innings. A Dodger fan all his life, the big win should have made him as happy as the rest of the overjoyed fans. But after years of rooting against winning teams, a bitter response to his own failure at stardom, Big Mike could no longer experience the thrill of victory.

The bitter old man had an ax to grind with the whole world. Only today, he focused his sour thoughts on his ungrateful son after receiving a last minute wedding invitation. The big event had been the talk of the town for weeks, and he just got the invitation that morning. The huge insult could mean only one thing. Someone had to twist his son's arm to get him to send it. The kid had nerve holding a grudge against his old man for something said in the heat of the moment. A good son would have seized the opportunity to mend broken fences by making him a part of the ceremony, letting him give the bride away, instead of that Career Counselor woman. After all, he was the only blood relation and surviving parent. It would be the proper, traditional thing to do, remaining completely oblivious to the fact he never considered marrying Michael's mother.

Incapable of expressing happiness for his offspring's good fortune, Big Mike elected to mope about his own lost moment in the spotlight, even if it meant his son would have had to die for him to get it. Smiling at the thought of a dead son, he stepped out onto the pitcher's mound to ruminate on the fifteen minutes of fame he never had, envisioning a stadium filled with fans in the stands and the players standing on the field with heads bowed in a show of respect for the presumably grief-stricken father.

Like a perversely twisted take on the famous farewell speech given by an ailing Lou Gehrig, Big Mike recited the words he instantly memorized after hearing the news of his son's tragic accident, and the proposed tribute given to the father of the fallen hero. Displaying no emotion to the news of his lost son, his eyes widened in star-struck anticipation for the time when all eyes would be upon him in unifying sympathy for the bereaved father. The last part he would have to fake, because the best part would come when they let him throw out the first pitch to start the extra innings.

After an imagined introduction praising his years of loyal service to the team (even though everyone pretty much despised him and his morbid attitude) followed by a long, hearty applause in his head, Big Mike held up a hand to quiet the nonexistent, cheering crowd with a self-congratulatory gesture and some humble words. "Thank you, please, no, stop, thank you." Once the phantom crowd died down in his mind, he recited his egotistically aggrandized oration to a vacant stadium.

"To all the players and fans here tonight, along with everyone watching at home, I would like to thank you for your support on this sad occasion, and to say it has been my honor to be a part of a team with such dedicated fans cheering us on wherever we go through these past victorious years." After a short pause for more envisioned vigorous handclapping, Big Mike continued.

"While, my boy, Michael, was never much of an athlete, my one regret is that I didn't try harder to encourage him to play the great game of baseball. If he only listened to his old man, he might still be here today." Bowing his head in fake solemn despondency, Big Mike's words were in stark contrast to his fabricated mood.

"He was odd child, who took more after his mother than his good old dad. I would just like to thank you again for this moment. Somehow, I feel like the luckiest man alive. I will always treasure the memory of this day."

More hallucinatory acclaim went through Big Mike's mind as he stood on the mound waving to a roaring crowd giving him a standing ovation, until reality came crashing back down on him as everyone vanished from the vacant stadium. In reality, if anyone had heard his self-aggrandizing speech, the real spectators would have been more appalled than laudatory.

Stepping off the mound, he let out a heavy, dejected sigh as he headed over to the home team's dugout. Reaching into his back pants pocket, Big Mike pulled out the wedding invitation. He plodded down the three steps of the substructure, scoffing at the fancy gold leaf lettering subscribing what the invitation proclaimed to be:

In Celebration Of A Lifetime Commitment

To Their Eternal Love

You Are Cordially Invited

To Attend The Wedding Ceremony Of

Michael Angel

&

Eve Adams

The thought of his son hailed as some kind of hero gave Big Mike no more pleasure than when given the news his son was still alive. He jealously thought they were going way overboard in giving him the red carpet treatment with a big parade, followed by a grand wedding ceremony at the swankest venue in the country, being presided over by none other than the GAC.

He actually felt like he did when Jacob Rose made them retract the story and cancel the tribute, pissed off. Big Mike dropped the invitation down onto the player's bench, unzipped his fly, and proceeded to urinate on the formal invite.

He never felt the explosion nor could the investigators find any of his remains after sifting through the debris that once was the Chicago Cubs' stadium.

3

Falling through a void-less, endless space

Spiraling madly down in a whirling decent

Splash landing into a sea of nothingness

Held down with crushing weight

Crashing waves of water decide fate

Thrashing endlessly until surface breaks

Washed up on barren shore

The vivid colors light the sky

As high-flying birds move on by

Without knowing where or who he was, a nameless man stood on the shoreline of an island in the middle of the ocean with no sign of life or any other land for as far as the eye could see. Scratching at a heavy beard then running his fingers through thick, scraggily hair, the nameless man began walking down the beach in torn and tattered clothes, heading nowhere in particular.

The faint sound of music off in the distance, coming from somewhere down the beachhead, started growing louder, drawing the man closer to it. A synthesized funeral organ playing heavy, foreboding notes slowly became clearer, accompanied by a piano, drums, electric guitar, and a bass. It was a familiar beat the nameless man could not put a finger on, but he decided not to be too hard on himself for not remembering the name of a song, when he didn't know his own.

Without realizing it, the sandy beach he had been walking on turned into a long yellow brick road. The man stopped and looked back to see if he could tell where the road began, but it went on for miles and miles. Upon looking back, a strange man stood in front of the nameless man holding his arms outstretched. The strange man wore a bright yellow suit outlined in flashing neon lights, along with high-platform, ruby-studded shoes, and extra-large, thick plastic frame glasses designed in the shape of sunflowers. Before the nameless man could ask who he was or where he was, the strange man—who seemed vaguely familiar in a paternal, fatherly way—broke into a song and dance with the distant music growing louder and in tune to the oddly worded, yet familiar song.

" _When are you gonna go home_

Where are you going to land?

You should have stayed on the farm

You should have listened to your old man"

" _You know you can't stay here forever_

You didn't sign up for this

You're in the present for your friends to waken

You're much too young to be stuck in the

Blues ohs oohs, ah ah ah, aah aah, ah ah ah, aah

So say goodbye to this yellow brick road

Where the blank face and nameless prowl

You can't stay stuck in your madhouse

You need to get back to the now

Back to barking out words of truth

While searching for facts in lies

Oh, when you finally decide your future lies beyond this

Yellow brick road oh ooh ooh, ooh ooh ooh oh, ooh oh oh, oh

As the chorus went on, the nameless man sensed something moving around by his feet. He looked down and stood dumbfounded as a scruffy, little dog lifted its leg and began to urinate on his foot. After finishing, the scruffy, little dog looked up and started barking at him, except the barks came out in words.

"I don't think you are in Kansas anymore, Dorothy. Nor New York City either, dummy."

Blinking his eyes and shaking his head, the nameless man looked back down, but the scruffy, little dog was gone. And when he looked back up, the strange man was standing in front of him with welcoming, open arms.

When the music was over, the strange man opened his mouth as if to speak, but instead a loud buzzing sound started emanating from deep down in his throat. It grew louder and louder in an increasingly threatening tone that made the nameless man take a few backward steps. Then suddenly, hundreds of bees flew out of the strange man's mouth in a savage hoard.

Taking off down the yellow brick road with the bees buzzing behind him, the nameless man ran straight out of daylight and into the dark of night with a full moon in place of a sun that never set. After realizing the bees were gone, he felt safe enough to stop running. Then a loud, high-pitched howl cried out in the night, stopping the nameless man in front of a headstone. He knelt down and read the inscription aloud.

"In loving memory of Franklin Harriet, Born June 10th 2155—Died August 8th 2190. I wonder if I'm in there. Maybe, I was allergic to bees." the nameless man pondered as the ground under his feet started to rumble and shake.

Jumping back as a hand thrust up through the dirt, the nameless man began to shiver with chills running through his entire body. Frozen in place, unable to run, nowhere to go, he just stood there and watched as the dead man, who he presumed to be Franklin Harriet, dug and scraped his way out of the grave. He didn't know any more about the dead man than he knew about himself, except maybe his name. Then again, what did he have to say to a dead man? Or worse yet, what could a dead man possible have to say to him that was so important he had to dig his way out of his grave to say it?

Much to the nameless man's surprise, once the dead man rose from the grave, he started to cough and choke for almost a minute before spitting out a piece of a pretzel, which bounced off the nameless man's chest. The dead man had a pale face, hollow sunken eyes, and wore a dark burial suit. And like the strange man who came before him, he also broke into a song and dance accompanied by some different music, coming from the same faraway place.

" _I still don't know what you're doing here_

Your time is running down a million dead end streets

And every time I thought you made it out,

Your choice was not so sweet

So when you turned around to face me

You should have caught a glimpse

How you're being deceived by the faker

You're much too smart to fall for this

Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes

Ch-ch-changes

Can make you sane

Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes

Man you gotta get out of here

Because time can chain you

But you can't chain time"

As the dead man repeated the chorus, the nameless man felt the ground start to rumble beneath his feet again. Only this time, the movable earth spread out all around him like an earthquake shaking the ground, until more hands burst through the dirt and soil followed by many more dead people getting up for a moonlight stroll.

In repeating the chorus for a third time, the dead man changed the lyrics to indicate the urgency of his words.

Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes

Ch-ch-changes

Should make you run

Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes

Man, you better get out of here

Because time will chain you

Here forever

The walking dead started moving toward him in their Frankenstein zombie pace, omitting a menacing presence. Reaching out and grabbing at him, the nameless man took off running down the beach with the zombie brigade following in hot pursuit. Then everything suddenly disappeared and faded to black.

The nameless man found himself floating in another space-less, timeless void. Well, maybe not so timeless, because he was sure he could hear the sound of about a hundred ticking clocks floating around in the infinite blackness with him. All at once, every unseen alarm started ringing out its one long song with a deafening sound, causing the nameless man to hold his hands over his ears as he closed his eyes trying to shut out the sound.

When the alarms all stopped at once, he was hovering above a hospital bed set on a beach with everything one would expect to find in a hospital room, except for the walls, ceiling, and flooring. A beautiful, but sad, blonde-haired girl sat next to the bed with an older couple standing by her side. She was holding onto the hand of a comatose patient the nameless man recognized as himself in a real outer body experience.

Just like the other familiar faces the nameless man could not place, the beautiful, sad blonde girl—who he was positive he knew, but even more important, needed to know again—also broke into song. The older couple provided backup vocals as the mysterious music began playing in perfect harmony with the vocalized lyrics.

" _Ticking away the moments in time making up your last day_

You're wasting the hours in a lost and forgotten way

Keeping your head buried deep in the ground far from hometown

Hopelessly wondering if someone or something

Will show you the way

Tired of all the sad men lying who never seem to find the sun

The day is long and life is short

You have no time to lose today

Then one day you find, those wasted years you left behind

Never knowing where to run

Your wish may never come

You need to run for the sun and not for the fun

Before you go sinking

Stop wasting your time racing around

As it comes up behind you again

Or you'll stay the same in a comatose way and grow no older

Darkness in breath can only lead to your death"

After the singer's powerfully pronounced final note of the re-imagined song, the music stopped along with the songstress. She then began to belt out a harmonically beautiful wailing cry of pain that grew progressively alluring with each agonizingly realized note. The nameless man started to be lulled away into a dreamy trance as the sublimely wordless vocal melody began to subdue his free will, holding him spellbound.

The siren song would have worked its fanciful magic on the nameless man, except he soon realized the lovely blonde girl was not only in excruciating pain, she was also bleeding from her pregnant belly. The harder she sang the more aguish it caused and more blood to flow. As the pitch perfect, harmonic vocals, capable of shattering glass, reached its coda, the blonde girl's belly was blood-soaked red.

The comatose man sprang upright in bed with his arms outstretched and reaching for the blood-spattered blonde girl. He cried out a single word in unison with the nameless man as he remembered who he was and, more importantly, who she was.

"EVE!"

4

"Michael!"

Eve cried out her dearly beloved's name as she shoved open the high-arched, wood-carved double doors and barged into the room in a highly flustered, distraught, and worried state.

Stretched out on a sofa relaxing in a black tuxedo, Michael sprang to his feet in alerted urgency. Jacob, Owen, Warren, and Ricardo Danielle—the best man, the two ushers, and the new roommate taking Michael's place—were also resting in the large, stylishly decorated lounge and brought to their feet in guarded readiness.

"What's the matter, Eve? What has happened? What is wrong?" Michael asked rushing over, seeing the distress in her eyes.

Holding up halting hands, Eve stopped him a few feet from her. Nervously shivering in a heightened tension it made it difficult for her to articulate complete sentences.

"I...I a...need to...um...talk to you. I have to...um...I need to tell you some...um."

Michael sensed her need for privacy, knowing Eve to be a normally coolheaded, confident woman not given to last minute, emotional outbursts in stressful situations.

"Gentlemen, can you give us a few minutes? I believe my lovely bride-to-be might be experiencing some butterfly activity in her stomach, and I have this special neck rub remedy to send them away."

"We understand," Jacob said as he ushered the others out ahead of him. "This place can be daunting under normal everyday circumstances, no less... Well, you two need your space."

Backing out of the room and shutting the doors, the thought running through Jacob's mind had more to do with a conversation he had with his SBP contact on Eve's behalf, than butterflies in her stomach.

"Eve, honey, I know this is a long way from what we planned, and truthfully, I would have preferred our cozy backyard service to all this ballyhoo," Michael said as he focused on what he believed to be the route cause behind her recently acquired nervous anxiety. "It has been working on my nerves, too."

"I too wish things could be simpler," Eve admitted with a slightly smirking grin at the notion of Michael feeling stressed out, when he was just lounging around as if he didn't have a care in the world right before she burst in. "I wish everything could be much simpler."

"I thought I owed it to Jacob and the GAC to accept their gracious offer after everything they did and are doing for me, for us. If it wasn't for Jacob's steadfast belief in me being alive, nobody would have been there when I sprouted up out of the water."

"I fully agree, and I am eternally grateful to Jacob. I can truly appreciate what a great friend he is to you." Eve acknowledged Jacob's loyal devotion to friendship.

"I just had no idea how far they would go." Michael said. "The parade was an unmerited, excessive spectacle to begin with, so I understand if you are feeling a bit overwhelmed."

Managing to take a short detour from her sad emotions, Eve reminisced a moment over the recently experienced happier occasion. It filled her with an immense delight to see Michael getting his well-deserved turn in the spotlight, even if he felt undeserving of the honor, which also was what strangely led to her hurried flight to come clean with him.

"I am so proud of you, Michael. If everything ended tomorrow, the fondest memory of my life would be being there with you today for your tribute parade. You deserve all the good things happening in your life. You are a principled and honorable man, and what you do not deserve is someone like me."

Baffled by Eve's unwarranted, self-imposed, disparaging remarks, Michael quickly came to her defense retorting her perceived false claims.

"Eve, until I met you the only person left in the world I truly trusted was Jacob. Now there is no one I respect and trust more than I do you. How can you say such things? You are the most honest and honorable person I know."

Eve burst into tears as she blurted out her sad confession through sobbing cries. "No, I'm not. I am a liar. I have lied to you about everything. You do not know who I really am. How they matched us. Or the most egregious lie of them all, who you truly are. No one has the right to keep that from you." Eve paused for what she thought might be a last heartfelt look in his eyes. "The only thing I never lied about is how much I love you."

Bewildered beyond imagination by Eve's derogatory admissions of deceptive behavior, Michael requested validation of these incriminating claims.

"I do not understand, lied about what? What do you mean by who you really are? Or who I really am? None of this makes any sense."

When the moment of truth finally arrived, Eve found herself wishing she could be anywhere else in world as she explained things from the beginning. It is usually a good place to start a story, although beginning at the end is not so bad, either.

5

Mulling about in the lobby, the gathering, unsettled guests were jumping to the same presumptive conclusion of nervous, wedding day jitters. Warren appeared the most overtly disturbed by current events, exchanging words of concern with Owen over the worried condition of their friend's fiancée.

"I hope everything is okay with Eve. She sure did look upset about something."

"Whatever it is, I'm sure everything will work out fine," Owen said in a nonchalant, detached manner.

"How can you act so callous when our dear friend's future happiness is obviously going through a crisis of some great concern to cause his beautiful bride to run across the lobby in her wedding gown only a few hours before the big event?" Warren objected to his longtime companion's demeanor, accenting his final words with a rising, high-pitched tone.

"Look, there is no sense in getting yourself all worked up over something that may turn out to be nothing." Owen cautioned his friend in a hushed voice, directing his gaze over to their new roommate lurking nearby, leery to speak freely about sensitive matters in his presence. "Besides, this is Mikey we're talking about here. No matter what the guy steps in he always comes up smelling sweet, just look at where we are now."

Warren did have to nod in agreement about Michael's recent streak of good fortune, giving heed to his friend's warning as he tried to remain inconspicuous after following Owen's line of sight trailing Ricardo moving about the room.

"Now that Jacob is also leaving, you and I have to be careful not to attract attention to ourselves. We are the ones left vulnerable and out in the open with a SBP Efficiency Expert living among us. Listening and paying attention to everything we say or do, because that is what they do. They all live for their jobs. They program them that way. Probably breed them that way, too. Like sharks, they need to keep constantly moving or else they will die. It's our dumb luck to get stuck with one." Getting a selfish feeling creeping up in the back of his mind, Owen sought to justify his comments. "Don't get me wrong, I am thrilled for Mikey, but his good luck could very well turn out being bad for us if we are not careful."

"What, are you saying I should have accepted my SBP match that came in last month? Is that what you really want? It might not be too late to change my mind, you know."

"Stop talking crazy, it's not your fault or anybody else's, just dumb luck is all."

While Warren and Owen discussed their domestic upheaval brought on by absent friends, Jacob was talking to the girl Eve brushed by earlier, who just so happened to play a part in the current discourse affecting his ex-roommates lives. Considering, the GAC handpicked her to be Jacob's SBP mate as payment for the special favor owed.

The introduction of Hanna Scott knowingly and unwittingly affected the lives of everyone in Jacob's social circle. The tall, slender twenty-two year old, with shoulder-length auburn hair, rich, full lips, and a bright, friendly smile, concealed a deep, lurking intensity underscoring a shrewd intelligence kept hidden behind perceptively knowing green eyes.

"What's the matter, Jacob? Your old roommate's bride seems really upset about something." Hanna asked, illustrating a heartfelt compassion.

"I'm not sure, probably just nerves." Jacob replied in part truth. He did not want to lie to someone he had become very close to in the short time since being matched, also because she seemed to be able to tell if he was holding something back, which she attributed it to an occupational trait of a cautious journalist. He felt she could see right through him like no one else ever could, except maybe the GAC. It was one of the things he liked about her, making her all the more attractive to him.

She could sense him holding something back. Not that he had a foreknowledge of their situation, other than being privy to some proprietary information relating to Eve's monthly checkup that might shed some light on the situation.

The strange thing about the conversation he had with his SBP contact when he called on Eve's behalf, according to her last exam she was no longer a virgin. He believed it to be the reason she was in there now, confessing to some youthful indiscretion with an eleventh hour plea for forgiveness.

Jacob figured if Michael was willing to forgive her for whatever there might be to forgive, it wouldn't be his place to pass judgment or say anything to spoil their relationship, even if it did leave him slightly suspicious of her. He found himself gaining a new perspective and a better understanding of the sexually desirous nature of human beings, especially after feeling himself come alive in a way he never expected. Like Michael, he never gave much thought to love or marriage. But once Hanna entered his world, she woke something up inside him he never knew existed. Embarrassed to admit it, particularly to Michael, Jacob and Hanna also decided to wait until after getting married before experiencing coital bliss.

Still a true believer and forever loyal to the GAC, who he looked upon more like a father than a mentor, Jacob began to see the need for some flexibility in the Selected Breeding Program. A less stringent process might have prevented the current rise of violent protests by people too frustrated with results gained by passive resistance.

The AFW made it known they would start targeting prominent figures, instead of famous places, if their demands of absolute free will were not met within a reasonable timeframe. While he did not agree with their methods (whoever deserved the credit), Jacob understood their argument. When originally established, the SBP system needed to apply to the entire population without exception, so they could survive in the devastated world. Throughout mankind's history, it had always been easier to control the will of the people when they were destitute and had nothing left to lose. But once the people got what they needed, they went after what they wanted.

Jacob started to feel the need for strict regulations on sexuality and procreation was no longer necessary since we evolved into a superior species over our intellectually primitive thinking ancestors. We stopped suffering from the brainwashing stimuli fed us with advertising, media, movies, music, and television always telling us if we want to find happiness we needed to be filthy rich, sexually potent, and desirously wanted.

Not that Jacob believed the SBP system antiquated or flawed in any way. Considering, dating services were the most popular way for people to meet and stay together by the 21st century. The public just needed to have more freedom to choose when, who, and why they might want to have sex and to what purpose.

Warren gazed over at the two double doors wishing whatever was troubling the young couple that they would hurry and make up already.

"Hey, guys. Don't worry about a thing. I bet they are in there right now working it all out. The folks down at the SBP have a great track record for matching the right people together." Ricardo said slapping Owen on the back while putting his arm around Warren's shoulder in an artificial brotherly show of support. "So tell you what I am going to do, Warren. Just to make sure there are no bugs in the system, I am personally going to look into what went wrong with your selected partner last month."

Owen and Warren weren't buying it.

"I mean, just think, what are the odds of two guys living in the same apartment being matched to someone totally incompatible? It must be astronomical, especially since the SBP has over a ninety-seven percent success rate. There must be a glitch in the system. I mean, what else could it be, fellows?"

6

Back in the parlor, Michael sat blank-faced and bewildered, not knowing what to say or where to begin after everything Eve just told him. So when Eve broke the silence, he just responded honestly.

"Do you hate me now?"

"I love you more than ever."

Eve's perplexed expression signified further explanation would be necessary for her to grasp his meaning.

"I could never hate you. How could I hate someone willing to give so much to a cause that is not hers? After everything they put you through, everything I put you through, how can you ask me that? How could I hate someone I love more than life itself?"

Sitting with Michael on the same sofa he was lounging on when she came rushing in, Eve felt a weight equal to what the mighty Atlas bore on his shoulders lift off hers, replaced with an optimistically hopeful outlook indicating maybe, just maybe, everything might work out fine.

"I am so glad to hear you say that, even if I'm not sure why you would." Eve replied with a bit of skepticism directed at the reasoning behind his words, but not the sincerity of their meaning, adding what she thought to be conclusively contrary testimony to his statement of devotion. "But I have been lying to you since the day we met."

Positioned on the edge of the sofa, sitting at a slight angle facing each other, Michael reached over and placed his hands on top of her cringing fingers clutching at the sheer white gown covering her knees.

"I see how hard this has been on you. So, if there is anyone I should be angry with, it is the leaders of the FWF for putting you in an impossible situation. I can only imagine the added pressure they were putting on you to conceive as quickly as you could. Then after moving into our new home, I go make things harder by leaving on a trip that I almost didn't make it back from, and to top it off, ask you if we could wait until we get married. It would be enough to break anyone's spirit. No, Eve, my ordeal down in the dark, pales in comparison to the one you have been going through up here in the light."

"You cannot let those things bother you. I never planned on following their directives anyway. I knew one day I would try to cleanse myself of the duplicitous odor of deception, but always kept a hopeful heart there might be a slight possibility you would still want me afterwards."

"That is why you are not the liar you believe yourself to be. Otherwise, you would have had no problem going along with their dishonest plan. I always thought there was something fundamentally wrong with suppressing anyone's free will for sake of a greater good. It never did sound like something the Prophet Warrior would have taught. I guess it is the same for every highly praised wise man not around to defend the meaning their words. Someone can come along and deliberately or ignorantly misinterpret their message and twist it around until it supports their selfishly misguided ends."

"Rationalization justification working at its finest," Eve stated frankly.

"It is a pervasively addictive condition ingrained in our DNA. After all, we are only human, no matter how superior a society we build or intelligent we get. Which is why I can understand the paranoid fear of the FWF leaders, I just cannot condone the actions of this new fringe group calling itself the AFW, whether connected or not."

"They are not. That much I know is true. In fact, from what I understand, the FWF leaders are more baffled by the existence of the AFW than anyone." Eve defended the rebel alliance, adding after a relevant thought popped into her head. "The FWF had nothing to do with the death of your father."

"Truthfully, I do not know if it would have bothered me if they did. In a weird way, I almost feel lucky knowing he won't be around to do or say anything to spoil the memory of our special day." Michael said without disguising his scornful disdain.

Putting aside the main reason for her impulsive, spur-of-the-moment conversation, Eve diverted the discussion away from covert missions led by rebel forces attempting to reveal a life altering conspiracy that could destroy their brave new world, to a dialogue more in relation to paternal inadequacies.

"Michael, if I had known how deep your resentment went, I would never have insisted on you inviting him. What on earth did your father do to make you despise him so much? Knowing you like I do, you must have just cause."

"He is not worth discussing. I never looked upon him as a father, just a planted seed." Michael paused a moment, cleverly grinning at a thought he knew she would comprehend the meaning of. "A very wise, beautiful young woman once told me our strength does not necessarily come from a biological parent, especially if they were never meant for the awesome responsibility. Of course, it does help if you come from good stock to stir in some nourishing ingredients like a strong moral fiber and a good-natured personality, all of which I inherited strictly from my mother.

"It is nice to know you were listening. So have you become more comfortable with the concept of fatherhood? I know you would provide many of those special ingredients."

"You could say I have come around to a different point of view. Because no matter who you are or where you are born, your only true family are those people who love you unconditionally, who stand by your side through thick and thin, who would fight until their last breath to save you, and most of all, they are first person you see when waking up from a coma."

Eve nearly burst out crying again, trying to suppress the odd emotional response of sprouting waterworks when happy, which were much better than the whimpers of guilt-ridden sadness she spilled earlier. Michael could not bear seeing teardrops of any kind trickle down her cheeks and decided to hold them back with an embracing, tender kiss.

Their passion began to overpower them once more, only this time there was no turning back. With no more obstacles in the way, they freely gave in to their desire for carnal pleasure. It did not matter to them where they were or what they were wearing. Nor did they give any thought to when expected to be in roles of considerable importance to the main festivities. Because to them, there was nothing more imperative than where they were and what they were doing, and no one was going to put the cork back in that genie's bottle.

"Damn stupid dress," Eve cursed her lovely gown, pulling at it without a care for the condition it needed to be in just a short time from then. The only urgent business weighing on Eve's mind was finding a way for her to get out or a way for him to get in.

It was not a romantic candlelit dinner moment, or a cozy, warm bed they were craving. It did not need to be. Because it was pure sexual gratification being aggressively sought after and found in open, loving arms. Tangled, hot, sweaty sex was their only concern. The absolutely satisfying, climatically orgasmic experience would soon become a treasured memory, forever reminding them of the strong bond they shared at a rather inconvenient place and time. That's what true love was, a spontaneously earth-shattering, unforgettably uninhibited affair.

Halfway out with him halfway in, Eve and Michael struggled through the bulky gown, jockeying for position and proximity, until Michael successfully navigated his way through the frilly garment with pants and shorts pulled down below his knees as they teetered precariously on the edge of the sofa. The movement of motion built up momentum as elbows, knees, and heads banged against the wooden sofa frame and the wall behind it. Michael and Eve were more concerned with continuously hitting the magically sensual mark, than with being comfortable.

Coming to simultaneously climatic crescendos of harmony, Michael's and Eve's unstable setting, combined with their hard driving thrusts, upset the delicate balance required by their tenuous position as they tumbled off the sofa in momentously conjoined ecstasy. Landing on the floor with a heavy thud, Eve and Michael laughed at their antics as they tried to regain perspective of their surroundings.

Knowing they were short on time, Eve had to ask one playfully clarifying question.

"So how is my brave Prophet Warrior feeling now?"

Hit with the power of a lightning bolt strike, the newly revealed knowledge finally struck home like one of those blazing arrows from the sky, sending an electrical current circuiting through the synapses of his mind. A heavy knock on the door, followed by Jacob's voice, brought him back to reality, forcing Michael to come to his senses more quickly than expected.

"Hey, guys. I thought you ought to know, a hostess came by and informed us the ceremony is scheduled to begin in twenty minutes."

The muffled sounds of embarrassing laughter caught Jacob off guard, quickly followed by an audible response.

"We will be ready in a couple of minutes," Michael called out as they hurriedly fumbled around getting bride and groom presentable.

7

Las Vegas had become a very different place compared to what it used to be. Many of the old casinos left structurally sound were converted for other uses, such as; sound stages for film production, concerts, plays, television programs, sporting events, and big celebration halls. Whereas, Sin City was originally built for those seeking to indulge in shameful and lewd pleasurable exploits in form of legalized gambling and prostitution, far away from the prying eyes of judgmental puritans, Vegas also came to be known as the premiere entertainment capital on the planet for world championship boxing, musical extravaganzas with big name crooners and divas, along with top of the chart bands. During reconstruction, they decided to preserve the heart of the city and leave the sin in the past were it belonged. Gone were the excesses of wealth, along with wasting natural resources on the glamor, glitter, and gloss of flashing neon lights. Instead, they diverted the saved energy to more practical uses, although, air conditioning was still deemed a necessary evil.

The seventy-eight degree Fahrenheit temperature was about as fall-like condition as it got out in the desert, comfortably well suited for a wedding.

When the time finally came, Eve found herself walking down the long, empty reflecting pool adorning the front of Caesar's Palace on the warm evening in late October. Passing under a high-arching rainbow fountain canopy flowing over her head the entire way to the altar, the bride walked down the aisle with Jean escorting her to the waiting groom. Sprouting out of the ground from alternating sides of the empty pool, interweaved with corresponding colored lights on the opposite side, the elaborately decorative structure was meticulously calculated and measured to the correct velocity and pitch to form the exquisitely designed tunnel of love.

Under a full moon and starry sky, the colors of the rainbow (red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, and violet) arched over her head giving the bride a luminescent glow as she made her way to the altar. The complimentary remarks coming from the female guests in the stadium bleachers setup on both sides of the elaborate structure flowed as freely as the sprouting water.

"Oh my, have you ever seen anything so beautifully crafted."

"It is a magnificent sight to behold. I only wish I can have a wedding this lovely."

"It is breathtaking. What is that song they are playing?"

"I don't know, but I just love their choice. It fits the occasion, perfectly."

"The bride has an absolutely radiant glow about her."

"She might be expecting."

The bleacher guests weren't the only ones commenting on the bride's bright, rosy complexion. The maid of honor also noted the change, giving the bridesmaids a much-anticipated explanation about the commotion before the service began.

"And to think that wonderful rainbow fountain caused Eve's last minute panic," Jackie told Kim, Bridget, and Amanda in a hushed voice while standing off to the side in their appointed places in support of the bride.

"Why? What do you mean?" Kim asked as the others eagerly tried to look inconspicuous.

"She was struck with a frightful worry the cascading water might bring back repressed memories in Michael about nearly drowning," Jackie explained the reason Eve gave with a quick thought off the top of her head, aided by a subconscious memory of a conversation the girls were having about the fountain right before she ran out.

"What did he say when she told him?" Bridget asked.

Jackie let out a light girlish giggle. "She said she felt silly after he explained it wasn't him walking down the aisle, so it wouldn't be a problem as long as she was fine with it."

The poignant words of John Lennon's beautiful ballad, Imagine, came to an end as Eve reached the altar, forcing the ladies gossip club to adjourn to the business at hand. As the GAC was about to start the service, a shooting star blazed across the sky bringing on a series of oohs and aahs coming from the bleacher guests, while everyone up at the altar took a moment to catch their breath after the pleasant, unexpected gift from the celestial firmament.

"Friends and citizens of New America," the GAC began the service with the cordial, warmhearted welcoming of a devoted statesman. "We have gathered here today to celebrate this very special day in honor of love, marriage, and prosperity for our nation's future. While this cherished union was not brought together by old, traditional ways of courtship, I do not believe a truer love could have ever blossomed."

The GAC paused a moment as the maid of honor and the best man stepped up behind the bride and groom, respectively. They each took out a gold wedding ring in preparation to hand them to their perspective charges when the time came.

"Michael and Eve, by your own free will you are here today to take this pledge of a lifetime commitment to honor, love, and respect each other's needs, wants, and desires. To which, the bride and groom informed me before the service began they revised their vows and shall now recite them to each other for their willing acceptance.

"Michael, do you promise not to take so many chances risking your life in pursuit of a higher knowledge?" Eve asked, adding. "Because your great sacrifice for a worthy cause would come at an unimaginably dreadful cost for me to bear."

"Eve, do you promise not to worry so much about your husband's work and to take solace in knowing his guardian angel and best man has also sworn to protect him from harm by constantly reminding him to watch his step?" Grinning at his next thought, Michael finished with his rewritten vows for Eve. "Also be willing to spend our honeymoon any place other than the beach or a lake or any body of water aside from a hot tub."

Unable to suppress his jovial response, the GAC stopped the ceremony for a few seconds as he and everyone else found humor from their playfully rendered commitment to each other's well-being. Once everyone regained their composure, the GAC gave affirming nods to the best man and the maid of honor to present the couple with their wedding rings. Handing him the ring, Jacob gave Michael a good-humored smile, indicating thanks for his inclusion in the kind words, as Jackie handed Eve her ring.

"Eve and Michael with these rings you both vow before the world and everyone here your promise to love each other for today and forever tomorrow."

"Whatever may come," they stated in unifying confirmation in place of I do.

"Now by the power of authority vested in me by our great nation, I am honored to proudly pronounce you man and wife. Well go ahead, give her a big kiss."

As the newlyweds pressed their lips together, fireworks started going off in the background in a spectacular display of colored lights sparkling in the night with the television cameras capturing every second for prosperity.

Breaking from their kiss, the newlyweds gazed up at the lightshow, but something caught Eve's attention out of the corner of her eye. While everyone looked skyward, Jean appeared to be lost in heavy thought. Eve deduced from her sad facial expression what was troubling her dear friend, even though Jean put on a brave face and smiled back after noticing Eve's observant look. It was the one thing left bothering her, leaving the only sour note on the day as the man Eve thought of as more of a father figure than a mentor could not attend the festivities.

After the stadium bombing that killed Michael's father, someone in the FWF offered up Max as a scapegoat. Unfortunately, he fit the bill all too well. More or less a rogue operative who called his own shots, working independent of the other members of the rebel group, Max was out of favor with the FWF for bringing in Eve. The cloud of suspicion falling on Max became enough for him to go into hiding or risk being indeterminately detained by special investigators assigned to the case and sent to question him about his affiliation with undesirable characters. He figured it would be better if he weren't around to answer their questions.

8

Larry Barbra was never a famous person or considered a man of great importance for any part of his life, except its end. A beloved husband, father, grandfather, and even a great grandfather since last spring, quite the opposite man from Michael's father, yet connected by their deaths as martyrs for a greater cause.

On the morning after the wedding, Larry showed up early for work in his usual cheerful, whistling good mood. A real poster child for the society of happy, jolly people content with their lives (if such an organization ever existed), Larry not only enjoyed his life, but his job as well. The retired sixty-eight year old used to work in the Department of Allocations keeping inventory records and balance sheets in order and correctly calculated for almost twenty years. This didn't mean he wasn't the same jolly fellow taking pleasure in doing a good job he had always been. Only now, his thick red beard had turned a frosty grey. After retiring, he wanted to keep busy working from his own personal sense of duty to remain a useful part of society to the day he died. Larry's only condition of employment was he had to work outdoors.

Watching the parade and wedding on television last night with his whole family gathered around, his wife, Martha, was nearly in tears over how beautiful everything looked, especially the rainbow fountain centerpiece. So he promised her at work the next day he would take a picture of himself standing in front of the casino entrance where they held the big event. Larry was content with driving his route in an electric haul cart, cleaning up the parking lot and emptying the garbage cans. He stopped by a specific garbage can near the exit gate he knew he would be by the next day after seeing the GAC passing it on the way out of the casino. It might have seemed like a little thing to most, but Larry was a loyal New American, proud to be living in a country much different from the past, where true equality and harmony finally existed among every citizen and not just the lucky few.

Going through his entire life with this rosy outlook, Larry felt whatever evil there was in this world would never touch him, always having a special aura protecting him from harm. Snapping a quick picture of himself standing in front of the garbage can, he thought it may not be a big, splashy fountain, but he planned to treasure the memory for the rest of his life.

Larry never felt the blast that practically cut him in half upon lifting the lid off the can.

###

The End of

Bright Night Past Yesterday

Book One of Forever Tomorrow

Volume One of The Book of Tomorrows

Also from Alexander Ulysses Thor:

*The World According to CHAD

(Complete History Archive Database) (Available in EBook only)*

A Prelude to Book One: Bright Night Past Yesterday

Dark Light Present Today

Book Two of Forever Tomorrow

The Book of Tomorrows: Volume One

I, Messiah

The Book of Tomorrows: Volume Two

Coming soon

The Prophet Warrior

The Book of Tomorrows: Volume Three

Evening Dawn Future Tomorrow

Book Three of Forever Tomorrow

The Book of Tomorrows: Volume One

About the Author

Growing up in a small town in New Jersey, Alexander Ulysses Thor developed a strong thirst for knowledge at an early age. He moved to California at the turn of the century to chase down his dreams of Hollywood stardom with a screenplay contract offer for $200,000.00 he couldn't refuse. Finding himself frustrated with the vagaries of Tinsel Town gamesmanship, Alexander went back to his first love of writing novels. After experiencing an epiphany of purpose, Alexander finally realized his reason for being. He was born to use the awesome power of the Written Word found in the pages of A Good Story to expose the Hypocrisy of Truth spreading out from living in a Disinformation Age. Born in the early Sixties, Alexander has witnessed the most progressive decades of change since the Industrial Revolution modernized the world with mechanical wonders. It gives him a unique perspective and the proper mindset to take on such an ambitious, potentially controversial project as The Book of Tomorrows.

### A Disclaimer

One thing I want to make perfectly clear, this is a work of fiction. The Book of Tomorrows is not an indictment against any one political ideology, religious belief, or system of government. It is an indictment against all of them. Or, I should more accurately say, the perversion of them. It's the reason for the old adage about how everything looks good on paper, because once the Human Factor is calculated into the equation, it is what usually screws things up.

### Acknowledgements

There have been many famous people who have influenced and motivated me, from those I greatly respect and admire to those I despise as hypocritical puppets and fools, but I'd like to express my appreciation to family, friends, and the helpful advice of everyday, casual acquaintances for their moral support and vital feedback.

One of the side effects of becoming a social nomad is being dependent on advice from the kindness of likeminded strangers and friendly co-workers. People like security supervisor, Jonathan Chico, whose initial input gave me the validation I needed at a crucial time in this novel. Also, I want to thank Sara Cochinwala, Jolene Roper, Logan Goldstein and the boys (Angelo, Trey, & Bora) for helping me see after dark the light of life burning bright in their eyes, to Lindsey and the girls in the office for believing, to Al Festa for being the best man I know, to Delta (Dee Dee) Spaniol for seeing the light even on the darkest days, and to all the good Samaritans giving me hope in every strangers eyes, where I can see a reflection of myself.

While there have been many wonderful, positive, and good things inspiring us, I find what usually motivates people more than anything are the things that really piss us off. Even though there are many people who have irked my anger, I will not name them or give them credit here. And it may very well be the things pissing me off motivating my literary tongue to wag, it is the words and works of those I consider the best of the best stimulating me to express my creative desires in a way that will stand the test of time with the great masters.

One thing I have always been fond of saying, if you want to find the real truth in this world, get to the heart of the matter, forget about the news, the media, politicians, or world leaders, and go ask a comedian. Lenny Bruce, Red Foxx, Richard Pryor, George Carlin, Bill Maher, Jon Stewart, pre-9/11 Dennis Miller, the brilliant façade of Stephen Colbert, Robert Schimmel, Stephanie Hodge, Andrew Dice Clay, Chris Rock, and many more, spew more truth with one joke than most news reports or political speeches ever will. But my real inspirational driving force was born from the works of authors, musicians, and filmmakers, who changed and touched my life with their creative craft and given me a unique insight into the world.

I consider William Shakespeare's Hamlet to be the greatest piece of literature ever written, period. It is so much more than a ghost tale. My favorite musician is Roger Waters, even though Beethoven's 9th is the supreme musical masterpiece of all time. I also like Roger's solo work more than his famous outings with Floyd—oh, by the way, which one is Pink? As for film, there is only one master, Stanley Kubrick. Every film is among the very best of whatever genre he re-created with his visually profound commentary on the human condition. Recently, an unorthodox protégé, a true prodigy of the art, a Mozart of words and celluloid, has emerged in Quentin Tarantino. Nobody does it better now. However, my favorite film is still Bob Fosse's 1979 masterpiece, All That Jazz, maybe because I saw it at young and impressionable age, like when only nine years old I saw Sam Peckinpah's The Wild Bunch at a drive-in.

I must also tip my hat to Bob Dylan, William Goldman (Magic is one of the best novels), Sidney Lumet, David Bowie, Stephen King, Martin Scorsese, Neil Young, Harold Robbins, Sydney Pollack, Led Zeppelin, Edgar Allen Poe, John Houston, Jimi Hendrix, J.R.R. Tolkien, Orson Welles, The Who, Terry Brooks, Michael Cimino, Jim Morrison, Michael Crichton, Oliver Stone, Janis Joplin, George Orwell, Robert Altman, Blue Cheer, Ray Bradbury, Christopher Nolan (Memento is still his best), Eric Clapton, Paddy Chayefsky, Ken Russell, Mott the Hoople and many, many, more. Throughout this novel, I pay homage to these and many other great artists by way of direct quotes, referential phrasing, and allegorical metaphors.

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