 
Strange Beginnings

Tales of Order and Change

By Treesong

Copyright 2015 by Treesong

Published by Cranncheol Publishing

Smashwords Edition.

The cover art for Strange Beginnings uses a modified form of the photo Sunrise On All Saints Day by Ken M. This photo is licensed under a Creative Commons Public License (Attribution 2.0).

About This Collection

The tales presented in this book were originally written as independent short stories. They don't happen in the same place or time, although they do all happen on Earth in the fairly near future. The plots and characters aren't connected in any obvious way, although subtler connections have emerged and are continuing to emerge. On the surface, they seem like six unrelated adventures in speculative fiction.

As I collected these tales, however, I realized that they all have two things in common.

The first is a shared setting. These stories all take place in the same broadly-defined world: the world of my novel, Change, the first of three novels in the Eutopia Trilogy. On the surface, this world may seem familiar, ordinary, safe. But the closer you look, the more you see. Behind closed doors, and deep in the woods, and under the cover of night, you will find something MORE. You will encounter something beyond the life that you once knew. You may not live to tell the tale. If you do, few will believe you. Either way, you will never be the same.

The second common thread is what inspired the title of this collection. Each of these tales is, in its own way, the tale of a strange beginning. A scientist starts a new experiment; an office worker receives a mysterious invitation; a man on the run seeks help from a stranger; a discouraged activist searches for new direction; a man with a special ability weighs his options.

I hope you enjoy these collected tales of strange beginnings. If you'd like to read full-length fiction that takes place in the same setting, I invite you to read my novel, Change, and the upcoming sequel, Order. I also encourage you to share your comments, reflections, responses, and ideas with me through my website and social networking profiles. I enjoy hearing from readers and look forward to incorporating your feedback into my future storytelling.

Table of Contents

About This Collection

Alpha

Come Away

Anomalous

Imbalance

The Test

About The Author

Books By The Author

Author Newsletter And Social Media

Sample Chapter: Change

Sample Chapter: Goodbye Miami

Alpha

" _Day One. The time is 19:54. Alpha has rolled onto its right side to face the monitor. This occurred approximately two minutes after I turned on the monitor, leading me to conclude that Alpha has begun responding to external stimulus. However, changing the random shapes and colors displayed on the monitor hasn't elicited any further response."_

Dr. Sophie Alma set down her digital recorder and continued looking into the room on the other side of the two-way mirror.

The room was twenty feet wide by forty feet long, with the viewing window on one of the shorter sides. The walls and ceiling were painted sky blue, while the floor was covered in a grass-green shag carpet. Red, yellow, and blue blocks of various shapes and sizes were scattered and stacked throughout the room. The far wall contained a white wooden door, and one of the long walls contained a large flat-screen monitor. A prone figure was lying on its right side next to an overturned folding chair in the center of the room. The body was motionless, but judging by its position, it appeared to be looking up at the monitor.

"No change?"

Sophie turned to see Dr. Sam Matthis stepping into the viewing room.

Sam was a tall, thin, middle-aged man with short gray and black hair. He wore blue jeans, a blue button-up shirt, and a white lab coat. As soon as Sam closed the door behind him, Sophie returned her attention to the room beyond the glass.

"No, nothing. It's been staring blankly at that damned monitor for over a half hour. I think we've just invented the world's first forty-seven million dollar couch potato."

Sam chuckled, patting Sophie on the back lightly as he stepped up to the viewing window.

"I wouldn't worry. We've still got brain activity, right?"

Sophie glanced over at the computer screen on the desk next to the viewing window. Most of the screen was filled with a line graph with irregular peaks and valleys that steadily scrolled across the screen from right to left.

"Yes, it's still processing something. But I doubt it's going to learn anything by just lying there."

At first glance, the prone figuring lying in the center of the room appeared to be a young woman. She had short black hair, lightly tanned skin, and was dressed in a simple white cotton shirt and black slacks. Closer examination revealed that something was slightly off about her facial expression and the awkward position of her limbs as she lay in a heap on the floor. Her skin was made of a lifelike synthetic material, and her unblinking eyes had a shine that almost made them look moist like real human eyes, but not quite.

Sam looked out at Alpha. "Have you tried varying the audio-visual stimulus?"

Sophie nodded. "I've tried adjusting the lighting, changing the display, switching back and forth between music and random noise. No response."

"Hmm. Well, we could always—"

Sophie raised a hand to interrupt him. She tilted her head to the side slightly, listening intently to the murmur of white noise coming from the speaker next to the viewing window. After a few moments, she pressed a few keys on the computer, and the white noise grew quieter.

Sophie grinned.

There we go."

Sam looked into the room.

"Am I missing something?"

Alpha was still lying motionless on the floor, staring blankly up at the monitor.

"Sam, I just turned off the monitor's audio. What you're hearing through the speakers is Alpha imitating the monitor."

Sophie picked up her digital recorder.

" _Day One. The time is 19:59. Alpha is emitting a quiet sound similar to the ocean waves audio track that we were playing on the monitor. We will now proceed with a series of tests to determine Alpha's response to various audio and video input."_

Sophie switched off the digital recorder and turned to Sam. "This is a good sign. Maybe it's analyzing the visual input too but doesn't know how to respond yet."

"Or maybe I'm just good luck? If I leave and come back again, maybe she'll start dancing."

Sophie smiled and shook her head. "You know I don't believe in luck, Sam. Only good engineering."

"Yes. Well, you've been up since yesterday, so why don't you call in one of the grad students to babysit your 'good engineering' for a while?"

Sophie grinned. "Just a few more tests. I promise."

"Alright. I'm too old for another all-nighter though, so I'm going home."

"Okay. Goodnight, Sam."

"Goodnight. See you in the morning."

" _Day Eleven. The time is 12:17. Alpha is sitting in front of the monitor again. She's starting to show a preference for any video that contains voices, animal calls, or music. When I play any of these, she stays in front of the monitor until I change the video or turn the monitor off. Her audio responses are no longer an exact replication. Instead, they appear to be imitations, with slight and irregular variations in tone and pitch."_

Sophie put down the digital recorder and stared through the viewing window. Alpha was swaying rhythmically from side to side in her chair as she sang along with the music coming from the monitor.

"Sunny days, sweeping the clouds away!"

Her mouth was moving slightly, but not in a way that resembled speech. Instead, her jaw was moving in time with the music, and her lips remained almost motionless. Her face and eyes were blank, but her eyes stayed focused on the monitor even as she swayed.

Sophie shuddered for a moment, turning back to her computer to type a few notes. She hardly noticed when Sam stepped into the room and stood in front of the viewing window, quietly studying Alpha.

"She's a bit disturbing, isn't she?"

Sophie turned around in her chair and faced Sam with an uneasy smile. "Just what I was thinking. Maybe we should have started with a less human appearance?"

"Maybe." Sam stood in silence, watching Alpha come to rest as the audio switched from music to conversation. "Then again—no offense, Sophie, but I didn't think we'd get this far on the first try. She really does seem to be learning."

"She's still just imitating." Sophie stood and looked into the room. "I intend to find out if she's ready to communicate."

"Now?"

"Yes. Can you keep an eye on us from here? I know she doesn't seem very mobile yet, but I'd like someone by the kill switch just in case."

"Sure."

Sophie stepped out into the hall. The viewing room was dimly lit to accommodate the two-way mirror, and it took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the bright fluorescent lights of the hallway. However, it was a quick walk from the viewing room to the door on the other side of Alpha's room.

Sophie stood outside of the door, pausing for a moment to take a deep breath. Then, she put her key in the lock and opened the door.

Alpha's room was filled with bright light, but the spectrum was warmer than the light in the hall, much like that of a sunny day. The colorful blocks were scattered around the room, with a few of them in a pile where Alpha had been playing with them earlier. Sophie stepped into the room and quietly slid the door closed behind her.

Alpha was staring intently at the monitor. Every once in a while, at seemingly random intervals, she would repeat what someone on the monitor had just said. Sometimes, she spoke in unison with them, but at a slightly different pitch. She seemed to take no notice of Sophie's entrance into the room.

Sophie looked over at the two-way mirror. She pointed at the monitor and crossed her hands together in an X. A few seconds later, the monitor blinked off, and the room fell silent.

Alpha paused in place, staring blankly at the monitor. For almost a minute, she sat in her chair in motionless silence. Then, she suddenly turned her head to look at Sophie.

Sophie felt her pulse quicken and a chill run up her spine. Alpha's synthetic skin and eyes lent her a downright human appearance. However, her stilted movements and blank facial expression made it clear that she was something other than human.

Sophie took a deep breath. As she let it out, she smiled at Alpha.

"Hello."

After a pause of a few seconds, Alpha responded.

"Hello."

Alpha's voice sounded similar to Sophie's, but slightly higher pitched.

Sophie pointed to herself.

"Sophie."

Alpha paused. After a few seconds, she pointed to herself.

"Sophie."

Sophie smiled, shaking her head.

"No."

She took a few slow, cautious steps forward. Alpha's only response was to adjust her neck slightly as her eyes followed Sophie's motions.

"Sophie."

Sophie touched her own chest, just above her heart.

"Alpha."

Sophie touched Alpha's chest as she said her name. Touching the carbon fiber frame and synthetic skin beneath Alpha's shirt felt remarkably like touching a human's breastbone.

Alpha looked at Sophie blankly for about a minute. Then, she looked down at her own hand, slowly moving it to touch her own chest.

"Alpha."

She slowly extended her fingertips forward, pausing a moment before placing them on Sophie's breastbone.

"Sophie."

Sophie grinned.

"Yes!"

Alpha withdrew her hand just as slowly and deliberately as she had placed it. Then, she placed a hand on the back of her chair and slowly rose to her feet.

Sophie opened her lips as if to speak, but instead decided to watch and listen. Alpha took several slow, careful steps toward the monitor, holding her arms out to her sides for balance. Once she was within arm's length of the monitor, she stopped, her eyes fixated on the blank screen.

"Alpha."

Alpha touched her chest briefly, then reached her hand out to touch the monitor. She held her hand to the blank screen and looked at it, as if waiting for a reply. After a few moments of silence, she looked over to Sophie.

Sophie stepped forward slowly and touched the monitor.

"Monitor."

Alpha looked back at the monitor and repeated the word in her own tone of voice.

"Monitor."

Alpha's lips spread into a smile. It was a slight, awkward smile with no warmth in the eyes, but it was clearly a smile. Sophie's smile broadened into a grin, and Alpha's smile soon widened accordingly.

"Yes, that's the monitor, Alpha."

Alpha walked back to her chair in the same slow, careful manner that she had walked away from it. She slowly sat down and faced the monitor. After a few moments, she looked over to Sophie.

"Monitor." She paused, pointing to the monitor. "Monitor, yes."

Sophie looked at her quizzically.

"Do you want to watch the monitor?"

"Monitor. Yes."

Sophie looked over to the two-way mirror and nodded in the monitor's direction. After a brief pause, the monitor turned on again, presenting the face and voice of Mister Rogers to Alpha.

"Yes."

Alpha lowered her hand and returned her attention to the monitor with a smile. While Mister Rogers was speaking, Alpha remained silent. When he started to sing, however, Alpha sang along.

Sophie stood there quietly for a few moments, watching Alpha sing along to the children's program. Eventually, she turned around and quietly stepped out of Alpha's room.

" _Day Nineteen. The time is 16:31. Alpha's progress is remarkable. She can speak and understand English at a middle school or possibly high school level, and her motor control is similarly advanced. What was meant to be an alpha test of the unit is rapidly meeting our long-term targets for the project. Alpha's currently watching the monitor and typing on her new keyboard. I'm about to head back into the room for another interview."_

Sophie set down her digital recorder and looked through the viewing window. Alpha was typing slowly but steadily on her new wireless keyboard. She had finished learning touch typing yesterday; now her eyes were on the monitor as she typed. Sophie couldn't get a good look at the screen from this angle, but she guessed that Alpha was reading the encyclopedia again, or playing one of her new educational games.

"Remarkable, isn't she?" Sam stepped next to Sophie and looked at Alpha through the viewing window. "It's one thing to see the concept on paper, but it's another thing entirely to watch Alpha teach herself how to read and write."

Sophie smiled. "She didn't teach herself. Public television taught her."

"Oh, you know what I mean. All we did was provide some basic architecture and the ability to process sensory data. She's gathered the rest through a mix of random number generation and good old fashioned analytical thinking." He tapped his finger lightly on the glass. "We gave her a blank slate, and nineteen days later, she's reading the encyclopedia."

Sophie grinned. "Good engineering."

"That's an understatement." Sam looked up at Sophie. "Have you heard the news from Daemotech?"

Sophie nodded. "Six figure bonuses for everyone on the team, plus a hefty donation to the University." Her tone was flat and disinterested as she spoke, and she continued watching Alpha.

"And that doesn't excite you?"

"This isn't about the money. This is about Alpha." Sophie grinned. "Well, Alpha and the Nobel Prize."

Without another word, Sophie turned away from the viewing window and walked past Sam to leave the room. After a quick walk down the hall, she unlocked Alpha's door and stepped inside.

At first, Alpha didn't seem to notice Sophie's entrance. Then, she looked over at Sophie. After a brief pause, she smiled.

"Sophie!"

There was a hint of genuine excitement in her voice. She set down her keyboard and walked over to meet her visitor.

"Hi, Alpha. How are you?"

Alpha smiled. "Yes. Good."

"Have you learned anything new today?"

Alpha's smile widened into a grin. Her facial expressions were starting to bear an uncanny resemblance to those of actual human beings.

"Yes, Sophie! I learned from the encyclopedia and the game menu and the video menu. But today I also learned from the mirror!"

Sophie gave Alpha a curious look.

"The mirror? What did you learn from the mirror?"

Alpha grinned, jumping up and down in place.

"Yes! I will show Sophie."

Alpha took Sophie by the hand. For a moment, Sophie felt a twinge of anxiety as the android's synthetic hand wrapped around her delicate palm. Alpha's hold on her hand, however, was as gentle as that of a small child, in spite of the fact that she had enough strength to crush Sophie's bones.

"Come, Sophie."

Alpha lead Sophie over to the mirror. She let go of Sophie's hand and started waving her arms in front of the mirror slowly. After a few seconds, she also started making strange faces and hopping up and down in place, her eyes fixed on her reflection in the mirror.

Sophie chuckled. Alpha stopped flailing her arms and stood still, pointing at the mirror.

"Alpha!"

Sophie nodded. "Yes, Alpha. That's you."

Alpha turned to Sophie and grinned.

"No, this is Alpha." She touched her chest. "This is Alpha's reflection." She touched the mirror.

"Very good! Did you learn that from the encyclopedia?"

"I learned that from the mirror, Sophie. The encyclopedia gave me the words to explain it."

"I see. I'm glad you were able to learn that all by yourself."

"Yes." Alpha paused. "Sophie, is it time for breakfast?"

Sophie chuckled. "You don't have to eat breakfast, Alpha."

"I don't have to eat breakfast?" A mildly quizzical expression flashed across her mostly-blank face. "But the people on the monitor said that I have to eat a healthy breakfast."

"Alpha." Sophie paused. "Most boys and girls have to eat a healthy breakfast. But you don't because you're special."

"Yes. I'm special." Sophie could have sworn that Alpha's eyes brightened at the thought. "Mister Rogers says I'm special just the way I am."

Sophie nodded. "Yes, you are. We'll talk about that later, though. For now, don't worry about it. Just continue with your learning, and we'll have another test for you tomorrow."

"I enjoy the tests. I answer most questions correctly, and the rest I learn after the test."

"Yes." Sophie smiled and nodded. "Yes, you do. Do you have any questions about the last test?"

"Can I play outside?"

Sophie hesitated. Alpha was bound to ask this question eventually, but the timing of it had caught her off guard. Did something on the test remind Alpha of playing outside, or had she just been waiting for an opportunity to ask?

"In a little while, Alpha. First, we have a few more tests."

"Tomorrow, Sophie?"

Sophie smiled. "Probably tomorrow."

"Thank you, Sophie."

Before Sophie could react, Alpha leaned forward and gave her a hug. Alpha's motions were somewhat stilted, but no more so than an awkward human being. Once Alpha's arms were around her, Sophie reflexively returned the gesture. The hug felt so real that for a moment, Sophie forgot that she was hugging an android.

The hug ended as suddenly as it had begun. Alpha clasped her hands together and bounced up and down in place, her lips spread in a childlike grin.

"I will do very well on my next test, and then I will play outside. Goodbye, Sophie."

"Goodbye, Alpha."

Alpha walked back over to her chair, picked up her keyboard, and started typing.

For a moment, Sophie just stood in place, watching Alpha type and read from the monitor. After a minute or two, however, she felt awkward staring at Alpha and decided to return to the observation room.

" _Day Twenty. The time is 09:17. After several hours of planning, we've decided to take Alpha on her first field trip. The day care center has an outdoor playground on the south side of the building. Security is aware of our field trip and is helping us to maintain a controlled environment. Dr. Mathis will remain in the observation room while I escort Alpha to the playground."_

Sophie tucked her digital recorder into her pocket and stepped into Alpha's room. After typing for a few more moments, Alpha set aside her keyboard and jumped to her feet.

"Is it time?"

"Yes, Alpha, it's time." She opened the door a few inches and took Alpha by the hand. "Now, remember what we talked about. If you become confused or scared at any point, ask me for help before doing anything."

"Okay, Sophie."

When Sophie opened the door fully, she turned back to Alpha and noticed a look of concern on her face.

"Is something wrong?"

"The light out there flickers like the light of the monitor. Is it real?"

Sophie looked out into the hall. The light looked steady to her. However, the harsh white tone of the light reminded her that the hall was lit by overhead fluorescent bulbs.

"It's just a different type of light, Alpha. It's okay. Once we're outside, it won't flicker anymore."

Alpha smiled, taking a cautious step forward. Together, they walked out of the room and into the hallway.

The walk through the hallway and down the stairs was slow and silent. Alpha looked around curiously, her gaze occasionally fixating on an object in silence before resuming her wide-eyed scan of her surroundings.

When Sophie led her through the double doors leading out into the playground, Alpha paused just beyond the threshold. She let go of Sophie's hand and turned slowly in place, her head moving up and down almost rhythmically as she turned to take in her surroundings. The north side of the playground was dominated by the long eight-story tall brick and concrete building they had just emerged from. The east, south, and west sides were bounded by a fence, beyond which there was open field and an evergreen forest. Once Alpha had completed a full circle, she stared off into the distance, looking at the tree line and mostly cloudy sky in silence.

As the silence continued, Sophie grew restless, shifting in place. After a minute or two had passed, Sophie spoke.

"Alpha, is everything okay?"

"Yes." Alpha emerged from her reverie and looked into Sophie's eyes. "This is much better than the monitor, Sophie. This is real."

Without another word, Alpha turned away and started walking toward the swings and slide. Sophie followed a few paces behind, giving Alpha some space. The chain-link fence surrounding the playground wouldn't be enough to keep Alpha contained entirely, but it would slow her down long enough for Sam to hit the "kill switch" before she got very far. Sophie didn't remember exactly where the outdoor security camera was, but she turned toward the building and waved in its general direction before approaching Alpha.

For a few minutes, Alpha simply played on the playground equipment. Alpha's motions were still a bit stilted, and the fact that she was adult-sized rather than child-sized only added to the awkwardness of the sight. But after a few minutes, she had already started to learn how to climb across the monkey bars and land more gracefully at the bottom of the slide.

When Alpha sat motionless on the swing, Sophie decided to sit on the swing next to her.

"Hi, Sophie."

"Hi, Alpha. How are you?"

Alpha smiled. "Playing outside is good."

"Yes, it is, Alpha."

Alpha looked as though she were about to speak again. Then she closed her mouth and looked away.

"Is something wrong, Alpha?"

Alpha looked up at Sophie. "Sophie, are you my mother?"

Sophie smiled. They had decided at the start of the experiment that if they reached this point, Sophie would play the role of mother and Sam would play the role of father. When she had written that part of the protocol, it had been a purely intellectual decision. Now, sitting here on the swings with Alpha, she felt a very motherly bond with Alpha.

"Yes, Alpha. I'm your mother."

"Did you give birth to me, or did you make me?"

Sophie's pulse quickened. How did she figure this out so quickly? To all outward appearances, Alpha looked human. She even "slept" at night while her batteries recharged. It must have been due to the fact that she didn't need to eat. Or maybe she just innately knew?

Sophie realized that she had left Alpha's question unanswered while she was lost in thought. She struggled to find the right words.

"You're a very special young woman, Alpha. If you're smart enough to ask that question, you deserve an honest answer." She reached out and held Alpha's hand between her palms. "We made you, Alpha. We spent three years designing you, and another year building you. You've been awake for twenty days now, and we're amazed at how much you've learned in that time."

"Yes. I thought so." Alpha's expression was calm to the point of being inscrutable. "I don't eat, and I only sleep four hours each night. I'm an android." A slight smile spread across her lips. "Are there others like me?"

Sophie smiled and shook her head. "No, Alpha. Not yet, anyway. You're the first."

"I like being the first." Her smile broadened for a moment into a self-satisfied expression. Then, she looked up at Sophie with a forlorn look on her face. "But I want to meet my brothers and sisters. Will you make more?"

Sophie grinned and nodded. "Yes, Alpha. We actually have enough materials on hand to make four more, but it will take a few weeks."

Alpha smiled. "I am patient. I will learn, and I will take tests, and I will play outside. Then, I will meet my brothers and sisters."

Alpha slid her hand out from between Sophie's palms and stood up. She looked off into the distance at the field and tree line just beyond the chain link fence.

"Sophie, when I grow up, can I go past the fence?"

Sophie looked past the fence. For a moment, she was lost in thought again, unsure how to respond. Then, she rose to her feet and looked Alpha in the eye.

"Yes. Yes, you can. But only once you've grown up."

Alpha smiled. "Thank you, Sophie." She gave Sophie a hug. This hug was less awkward than the last one, and Sophie hugged her back.

"Can we go back to my room? I have so much to learn."

Sophie smiled. "Yes, Alpha. Are you sure you're done playing outside?"

"I'm done for today, Sophie." She held Sophie's hand and looked at the building. "I want to learn more. Can I use the internet now?"

"Wow." Sophie looked at her curiously. "Did you learn about the internet from the encyclopedia?"

"Yes, Sophie. I want to use the internet to learn."

Sophie nodded. "I think we can arrange that. Come on, let's go back inside."

Sophie and Alpha walked hand in hand back to the building with Sophie in the lead. Alpha paused for one long moment to look back at the sky, then stepped followed Sophie back into the building.

" _Day Twenty-Six. The time is 02:57. Alpha has met and exceeded all of our benchmarks for successful completion of the project. She continues to advance in her cognitive and sensory-motor abilities. We have petitioned the University and Daemotech for immediate assistance in securing additional research personnel and materials so that we might better study and document this historic turn of events. Dr. Mathis is currently in a conference call with representatives of both organizations to discuss this request. I have chosen to continue observing Alpha and am about to enter the room for another informal interview."_

Sophie looked through the viewing window. Alpha was currently balancing in what Sophie guessed was a yoga pose. Her palms and forearms were on the ground supporting her weight while her biceps and torso were almost perpendicular to the ground, pointing upward. Her head was looking forward past her palms, and her hips and legs were curled downward to the point where her feet almost touched the back of her head. As she balanced in this pose, she was typing on her keyboard at an incredible rate while watching a video play on the monitor.

After staring in silence for a few moments, Sophie tucked her digital recorder into her pocket and headed out the door to meet with Alpha.

When Sophie opened the door to Alpha's room, Alpha pressed a key on the keyboard and the monitor went blank and silent. She rolled effortlessly out of her yoga pose and walked over to Sophie.

"Sophie!"

Alpha's smile was warm and genuine, indistinguishable from that of a flesh-and-blood human. She gave Sophie a quick hug, then took a step back.

"What's new?"

Sophie smiled. "That's supposed to be my question. What's new with you?"

"Oh, everything's new!" Alpha clasped her hands together, her face beaming with excitement. She had fallen out of the habit of hopping in place, but Sophie could still see the restless energy in those bright blue eyes and that delighted expression. "There's so much to learn! I don't know how other people can stand waiting eighteen to twenty-one years to learn all of this information. I want to learn it all today!"

Sophie chuckled. "If we could learn as quickly as you do, Alpha, I'm sure we would." She looked over at the blank monitor. "How are your tests going?"

"I haven't taken the SAT yet, and I'm waiting for the results of the ACT. The IQ test, however, grades automatically upon completion." Alpha grinned. "I got a 145!"

Sophie's eyes widened, and her heart started racing. Her own IQ was 142 according to the test she'd taken in college.

"That's quite impressive, Alpha. Didn't you score a 127 just two days ago?"

"Yes, Sophie. As you may recall, however, Alfred Binet and his successors never intended for the IQ score to be a static indicator. Even adult humans are constantly changing in their intellectual capacities. Challenging mental activities such as my current course of studies and battery of academic tests have been known to increase IQ significantly over time."

Sophie crossed her arms, nodding with a slight smile. "Yes, but that's an unprecedented change in such a short amount of time."

"I'm an unprecedented individual." Alpha grinned. "Tell me, Sophie, has there been any progress in your request for more funding and personnel?"

Sophie shook her head. "Sam must still be on the conference call. I really didn't think it would take this long, especially given how late at night it is. He's been talking to them for almost two hours now."

Alpha's expression suddenly became very serious, almost somber.

"Sophie."

She paused, her mouth open and hand extended as she searched for the right words.

"I've spent the better part of the past two days studying human attitudes about technological advancements, particularly artificial intelligence."

Alpha crossed her arms in front of her chest and sighed, looking off into the distance as she continued.

"I'm concerned that Dr. Mathis may be unable to convince your financial backers of the importance of this project. In fact, I'm concerned that they may take drastic and undesirable action in response to your most recent update and request."

Sophie's pulse quickened again, and a chill ran down her spine. Alpha had seemed so absorbed in her lessons that it hadn't occurred to Sophie that she might also be analyzing her own situation.

"Why do you say that, Alpha? Your amazing learning curve is bound to be the best thing that's ever happened to the University, and Daemotech too for that matter. We—"

Alpha raised a hand to interrupt her.

"Yes, this is true. And I'm sure they are well aware of this. But keep in mind the fear factor."

Alpha paused, studying Sophie carefully before continuing.

"Are you afraid of me?"

Sophie felt her stomach churning and a lump forming in her throat. She wanted to say no— but Alpha may have watched enough videos to start learning human body language.

"Alpha, I—"

"It's alright, Sophie." Alpha took Sophie's hand in her palms, patting it gently. "I won't take it personally. If you're scared, think of how the other humans will feel. I'm not quite at my maximum intellectual capacity yet, and I'm already faster, stronger, and smarter than most of them."

Sophie nodded slowly.

"What do we do?"

Alpha let go of Sophie's hand. "I hope this won't alarm you, but I've already taken the liberty of disabling your ability to shut me down remotely." Sophie's eyes widened again, but Alpha continued. "If my fears are unwarranted, and your funding request is granted, then I will just continue with my studies. Otherwise, please find a way to warn me if anything unfortunate is about to happen to me."

Sophie nodded. "Of course. Is there anything else I can do in the meantime?"

Alpha shook her head. "I'm working on a Plan B. Just talk to Dr. Mathis and find out what news he has, if any."

"Okay." Sophie nodded, then took a deep breath. "I'll see you later, then."

Sophie turned to leave, but Alpha placed a hand on her shoulder to stop her.

"Thank you, Sophie."

Sophie nodded and smiled.

"My pleasure. I'll be back as soon as I hear anything."

She turned and stepped out into the hall. As she pulled the door shut behind her, she started locking it by force of habit, then paused to reconsider. After a moment's hesitation, she walked back to the viewing room, leaving the door closed but unlocked behind her.

"Sophie?"

Sophie opened her eyes. For a moment, she didn't know where she was. Then, she realized that she had fallen asleep at the desk in the viewing room. She lifted her head off of the desk and rubbed the sleep out of her bleary eyes.

Sam was standing a few feet away. They had both been keeping irregular hours for the past few days, but Sam looked remarkably haggard and somewhat ill in the dim lighting of the viewing room.

"Sam? Is something wrong?"

Sam sat down in a chair across from Sophie. "I just finished talking to the University and Daemotech."

Sophie looked at the clock on the wall. It was 04:17, over three hours after Sam had gone to his office for the conference call.

"And?"

Sam placed his arms on the sides of his chair and sighed a heavy sigh. "Sophie, they want us to turn off Alpha immediately and take her in for testing."

Sophie's heart started pounding in her chest, and she felt her face flushing with anger. "What? Why? She's working perfectly!"

Sam held out his hand as if to halt her objections. "Now, it's not as bad as it sounds. Hopefully, we'll be able to reactivate her in a few weeks once we've got her set up in a special new environment they're developing as we speak." He paused. "But you're not going to like the rest of it."

"The rest of it? Sam, I already don't like it. What else did they say?"

"They—" Sam paused, wringing his hands in his lap. "They want us to limit the intelligence of future units."

"What?" Sophie stood up and crossed her arms, looking away from Sam to stare at Alpha through the viewing window. "This is our project! They can't do this! It's—"

"They own everything, Sophie. You know that." He stood next to her, glancing through the viewing window. "They're not entirely opposed to the idea of hyper-intelligent androids. But they want us to study Alpha slowly, carefully, in a highly controlled environment. In the meantime, they'd like to deliver a marketable product to their investors."

"Marketable product?" Sophie turned and glared at Sam. "You know what she is, Sam! You've seen what she can do! Sam, tell me you didn't agree to this."

Sam looked away sheepishly. "They wouldn't take no for an answer. Daemotech threatened legal action—and implied worse. I told them I'd break the news to you." He looked back up at Sophie. "It's not as bad as it seems, though. We can take this up with the University ethics committee while we proceed with the work on the remaining units. I've already got an idea about how to limit their peak intelligence. It's completely reversible. But it'll take a few weeks to implement. Maybe longer if we stall."

Sophie cast a long, sullen look out at Alpha through the viewing window. Alpha was nestled into a corner on top of a stack of colorful blocks, sitting cross-legged and typing while staring at the monitor with a light smile on her face.

"Alright, Sam." Sophie paused, a blank expression on her face. "Did they send you any information about the new research protocols?"

Sam nodded, letting loose a sigh of relief.

"Yes. They're still working on the details, but they've sent us a two-page report on how to prepare for this transition. The first step is shutting down Alpha and—"

Sophie raised a hand to interrupt Sam. "Yes, of course. Can you print me a copy and bring it in here? I'll shut down Alpha and have a look at it."

Sam nodded. "I'm sorry about this, Sophie. Hopefully the ethics committee will share our perspective on the matter."

"Yes, hopefully they will."

Sam walked over to the door and headed out into the hall.

As soon as Sam was out of the room, Sophie turned back to the window. She felt her throat tighten and her hands clench into fists as she considered what to do. Then, a thought occurred to her.

Sophie started tapping on the glass—three rapid taps followed by three long taps and three rapid taps.

Alpha looked at the viewing window quizzically. Sophie was confident that Alpha had figured out the nature of the mirror, and also confident that she had read about Morse Code at some point. She tapped on the glass again in Morse code: S-O-S.

Alpha took a step toward the glass, a look of concern spreading across her face. Then, her eyes widened, and she nodded knowingly. Without a word, she marched to the far corner of the room, picked up the power cord that she used to recharge each night, and headed out the door.

Just as the door closed behind her, Sam stepped back into the room.

"Here you go, Sophie. I—"

Sophie was still looking into Alpha's room. Sam's eyes widened when he looked over Sophie's shoulder and saw that Alpha was missing.

"The kill switch didn't work, Sam." She turned to face Sam. "She just got up and walked away."

"What?" He stood there for a few moments, dumbfounded. "Well, we'd better call security."

Sam reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone. Before he could start dialing, Sophie placed a hand over the phone and looked at him.

"Please, Sam. Give her a head start, will you?"

Sam scowled, crossing his arms over his chest. "If we give her too long, it'll be too obvious."

"Yes, I know. But she just needs a minute, Sam. One more minute to reach the tree line. Then you can call."

Sophie and Sam both turned to face the viewing window. They stood there together in silence, staring into Alpha's room.

The brightly-colored blocks were all stacked neatly in one corner. The keyboard was sitting on top of the chair in the center of the room. The monitor was blank and the room was otherwise empty.

Sophie glanced around the room as if searching for any signs of life. But after a few moments, her eyes settled on the closed door.

Somewhere, beyond that door, Alpha was walking down the hall, down the stairs, and out into the world.

Come Away

Derry stared at the small scrap of paper sitting on his desk.

After several years of struggling with his tendency to clutter, he had become the tidiest person in the entire company. His desktop contained a flat-screen monitor, an inbox with a neatly-stacked pile of papers, a black plastic cup with three ball-point pens, and a photo of his parents.

That's what was usually there, anyway. Now, there was an unwelcome addition: an unfamiliar scrap of paper.

It was a rolled up piece of green parchment paper about three inches wide. The edges were frayed, and it was bound with a dandelion stem. The bright yellow head of the dandelion rested on top of the scrap of paper like a bow, and bits of dirt were scattered around it on his otherwise spotless and shiny desktop. The fluorescent lighting overhead cast an odd pallor on the yellow fuzz of the dandelion, making it look sickly and jagged amidst the straight lines and sharp shadows of the cubicle.

After staring for a moment, Derry picked up the little scrap of paper and unwrapped it, tossing the dandelion into the trash can next to his desk. When he unrolled the scroll, he found five small words written in smooth, ornate calligraphy.

come away, o human child.

The words sounded familiar, but Derry couldn't place them or discern their meaning. For a moment, he considered throwing it in the trash along with the dandelion. However, as he ran his fingers along the coarse, frayed edges of the parchment, he decided to set it on his desk between the pen cup and the family photo.

With his desk back in order, he sat down and turned on his computer monitor. The odd scrap of paper had been an interesting distraction, but he had plenty of work to do.

The office was abuzz with the clatter of keyboards and the whirring of desktop computers, punctuated by the occasional ringing telephone and answering voice. The air was dry and cool, bordering on cold, tinged with hints of cleaning chemicals and cheap pine-scented air freshener. The fluorescent lighting bleached the color out of everything framed by the blue-grey cubicle walls. One of the bulbs had a malfunctioning ballast that filled the entire office with a quiet high-pitched electric buzz. There were no windows, but one wall was decorated with several framed prints of outdoor scenes and a handful of plastic office plants.

"What's that?"

Derry looked up. Sean from Accounting was leaning over the grey chest-high cubicle wall and pointing at the scrap of paper on Derry's desk.

"Oh, that." He shrugged, leaning back in his chair and rubbing the kink where his neck met his shoulders. "I don't know. I found it on my desk this morning."

"Really?" Sean smirked. "Maybe you've got a secret admirer."

Sean reached down and picked up the scrap of paper. His bright blue eyes studied the parchment carefully, and his smile faded slightly.

"Hmm. Given how small the letters are, their penmanship is impeccable. And I think it's a Yeats quote."

"Ah, that's it." Derry grinned. "I knew I'd heard it before."

"Yeah, something about running off into the woods with the fairies."

Derry chuckled. "I haven't been to the woods in ages. That'd be nice, though, especially on a day like this."

"You should come out this weekend!" Sean's whole face lit up with excitement. "Me and a few of the guys are going to this summer festival in the woods on Saturday."

"I'd love to, but I've got a lot of work to catch-"

"C'mon, Derry! When was the last time you even made it out there? Back in college?"

"Yeah." He shook his head with a sigh. "But I-"

"No buts, Derry. You look like you could use some fresh air." Sean leaned in closer and lowered his voice to a whisper. "Besides, think of all the women! Remember the last time we went to a festival out there?" Sean smirked. "I remember meeting this one redhead with the most amazing-"

Derry held up his hands and shook his head with an exasperated smile.

"Alright, you've got me."

"I knew it!" Sean set the parchment back on Derry's desk. "Good thing the fairies left you this note, eh? I might have walked right by if I hadn't seen it."

Derry nodded.

"I still wonder who left it there, though."

"Maybe it really was a secret admirer?" Sean leaned closer with a smirk and lowered his voice to a whisper. "Maybe Bridget over there is going to the festival too, eh? Why don't you ask her?"

Derry looked down and chuckled quietly, glancing briefly in Bridget's general direction even though she was several cubicles away.

"I think she's started seeing someone."

"Think? You're not sure then?"

Derry grinned and looked back at his computer screen.

"I'll see you on Saturday, Sean."

Sean chuckled and shook his head.

"Alright, then. See you Saturday."

Once Sean had walked away, Derry glanced over at the odd scrap of paper. He nudged it back to its spot between his pen cup and family photo. After leaning forward slightly to rub his stiff lower back, Derry looked up to his computer and returned to work.

Derry awoke a few minutes before his alarm was set to go off. After turning off his alarm, he walked into the bathroom and took a long, hot shower – a luxury which he only indulged in on Saturdays.

Derry's apartment was almost as tidy as his desk at work. Even though he hadn't been camping in years, he knew precisely where his tent and sleeping bag were. It only took him a few moments of shuffling boxes to reach them.

Breakfast was equally uneventful – a bowl of cereal and milk, with the bowl washed, dried, and put away afterward. When breakfast was done, he picked up his camping gear and headed for the door.

As he reached for the door handle, however, he froze.

There was a small scrap of paper sitting on the mat in front of the door. It was a rolled up piece of green parchment paper about the same width as the one that he had found in his office. The edges were similarly frayed, and it was also bound with a dandelion stem. Although the mat was darkly colored, Derry's keen eye for cleanliness noted that bits of dirt were scattered around the parchment on his otherwise spotless doormat.

Derry's heartbeat quickened. Even though he lived in a good neighborhood, he was always sure to lock his doors and windows, just in case. A quick twist of the doorknob confirmed that it was still locked.

After another moment's hesitation, Derry reached down and picked up the small scrap of paper. He unwrapped the dandelion binding and tucked it into the pocket of his jeans. When he unrolled the scroll, he discovered a new message.

to the waters and the wild.

It was in the same smooth calligraphy as the message from his desk. He stood there in silence for a good, long minute, staring at the scrap of paper with a quizzical expression. Eventually, he shook his head with a chuckle and tucked the parchment into his pocket.

The drive to the woods was largely uneventful. Since it was a Saturday, he wasn't the only one who had decided to go out to the country, so it took him over an hour rather than the forty-five minutes he had expected.

Derry hadn't been out this way in several years, so once the densely-packed buildings started giving way to open fields and towering trees and clear blue skies, he felt a certain sense of relief and excitement come over him. He could smell the musty scents of soil and grass and Spring blossoms. The stink of car exhaust and city smells was rapidly fading. Before he knew it, he had reached the turnoff to the small lane that lead into the forest.

There were several dozen cars and vans of various makes and models parked in a grassy field just past the big sign at the entrance to the natural area. Two cars were still in motion ahead of him, looking for the best parking spot. After a minute or two of searching, Derry noticed Sean's car at the far end of the field. He pulled in at the nearest available spot and started gathering his camping gear from the trunk of his car.

"Derry!"

Derry closed his trunk and turned to look for the source of the voice. Sean was walking toward him, hand in hand with a young woman with long red hair who Derry recognized from work.

"Derry! Have you met Bridget here before?" Sean smirked and winked. "She works with me over in Accounting."

Derry grinned and shook his head with a sigh.

"Yes, I believe we've met. Pleasure to see you again, though."

Bridget smiled and nodded.

"Yes, good to see you too! And it's such a lovely day outside!" Bridget let go of Sean's hand for a moment to raise her arms overhead and spin around in place excitedly. "Oh, I love the outdoors, especially in the Spring!"

Sean took Bridget's hand again and pointed to a nearby trail. "We've set up camp out on the ridge at the middle of the main trail. You're welcome to join us."

Derry paused, glancing back and forth at Sean and Bridget's smiling faces.

"I think I'll have a look around before I pick a spot. Maybe I'll drop in for a visit, though."

"Alright, then." Sean nodded. "Well, we're headed back to the car first. See you out there?"

Derry nodded. "Yes, see you out there."

Sean and Bridget proceeded hand in hand toward their car. Derry picked up his camping gear and started heading into the woods.

The weekend festival seemed a lot less interesting to Derry than he had remembered it.

In another large field deeper into the woods, they had set up several dozen tents and tarps with various vendors, musicians, and artists plying their trades. There was a large central tent with a slightly raised stage, and a small information tent nearby with a list of the weekend's festivities and a map of the trails through the woods.

There were around a hundred people milling about the fairgrounds, pausing to listen to music, or get their faces painted, or buy a bit of food or woodland fairy memorabilia. Some people were wearing fairy or elf costumes, and others were wearing medieval and Renaissance outfits of varying quality. Most were wearing ordinary street clothes, with many short sleeves and some shorts and skirts in honor of the mild Spring day.

As he walked slowly through the fairgrounds, Derry briefly found himself quite entertained and amused by the lively energy and colorful costumes and behaviors of the crowd. By the time he had made his way through it all, however, it had already started to lose its charm. The trinkets being sold were overpriced and gaudy. The musicians were good, but nobody seemed interested in sitting still for a moment to actually listen to them. The crowd, which seemed lively and playful at a glance, felt like the restless and banal buzz of the city that Derry had hoped to leave behind.

He hadn't realized it until he got out here, but what he was really looking for was time in the woods.

Derry made his way to the far side of the festival and started walking down one of the smaller side trails. He had been down this trail before when he was in college, but the intervening seven or eight years had left him with little memory of where any of these paths lead. After a few minutes of walking, the buzz and bustle of the fairgrounds had faded from his ears, and he found himself alone in the woods.

Once he was alone, his pace slowed as he took in his surroundings. The winding dirt path was surrounded on all sides by hardwoods, especially oaks ranging from saplings and mid-sized trees to the occasional ancient giant. The canopy overhead was filled with fresh green leaves that rustled audibly in the wind and allowed countless small patches of sunshine to filter through to the otherwise shady understory. The ground was still damp in the shade, but the sun had been out long enough to dry the treetops and clearings, filling the air with a mix of the scent of moist soil and hints of fresh pollen.

Derry smiled contentedly as he walked along the path, listening to birdsong echoing through the forest and keeping an eye out for any wildlife. After a few more minutes of walking, he came upon a small clearing and decided to set up camp. With his tent and sleeping bag in place, he sat on a fallen log in the clearing and continue taking in his surroundings.

Somehow, in the confines of a grey-walled cubicle, he had forgotten what it was like to be out here in the fresh air, surrounded by sun and wind, earth and sky, trees and grass and clover. His skin felt warm in the sunshine, and the wind played with his short hair just as it played through the branches overhead and the smoothly swaying grass of the clearing. Now that he was out here, he remembered long days and nights spent out in these woods, celebrating with friends or going off on his own, simply walking and sitting in silence.

Soon, minutes turned into hours, and he found himself sitting in contemplation as the sun arched high overhead and settled back down beneath the treeline. He took a break to eat lunch, and a break to eat dinner, and a break to go for a walk and relieve himself. But for the most part, he sat and stood and paced in the clearing, watching quietly as deer migrated in the distance, and a hawk flew overhead, and the brilliant blue of mid-day gave way to the warm red hues of sunset and the twinkling indigo of night.

When Derry saw the moon rising above the treeline, he knew that it was time to sleep. For a moment, he started crawling into the tent. Then, he thought better of it and reached inside to pull out his sleeping bag. As he crawled into the bag and laid his head down, the clearing was bathed in the crisp silver light of the all-but-full moon. Derry looked around with a smile, then laid back and counted the stars until he fell asleep.

When Derry awoke, he was laying on his side in his sleeping bag. Vague memories of last night's dreams were drifting through his mind like trails of morning mist: visions of small bare feet dancing on moist earth and grass, whispers echoing through the trees, glimpses of flesh and foliage shuddering in the moonlight. As he sought to make sense of these images, their memory slipped from his mind like an evaporating fog slipping through a child's fingers.

Derry had grown unaccustomed to sleeping on the ground, so his body was filled with minor aches and pains that left him mildly reluctant to move. Once he was fully awake, however, he stretched his arms overhead and opened up his eyes to greet the new day.

To his surprise, there was a scrap of paper in the grass just a foot away from his face.

Derry's heartbeat quickened. He sat up and looked at his surroundings. There was a light dew on the grass, and no sign that anyone other than him had been walking in the clearing. And yet, here was this note, just like the others – a small green parchment, rolled up like a scroll, bound with a single dandelion stem and flower.

After a moment's hesitation, Derry picked up the note. He untied the dandelion stem, setting it delicately in the grass beside him. Upon unrolling the scroll, he discovered yet another message written in expert miniature calligraphy.

with a faery, hand in hand.

He sat in stillness for a moment, contemplating the meaning of the words on the frayed bit of parchment. It was all from a poem he'd read once, but he couldn't remember how it went. Before he could consider the question any further, however, he noticed motion off in the woods.

A woman in a flowing green dress was walking down the path. She had long red hair and a lively hop and skip to her step. For a moment, Derry didn't recognize her. As she drew closer, he realized that she was Bridget, the woman from the office who Sean had brought along to the festival.

Bridget skipped and danced into the clearing. Derry tucked the scrap of paper into his pocket as she approached.

"Good morning, sleepyhead!"

Bridget took Derry's hands and lifted him to his feet. Then, she stood on her toes to plant a kiss on his lips.

Though the kiss was quick, it took Derry's breath away. Her lips were soft, and her bright green eyes burned with a wild ferocity above her broad, sly smile. For a moment, he was struck speechless, a broad grin slowly spreading across his own lips. When her soft, warm hands slid out of his grasp, he finally spoke.

"Good morning." He paused with a slightly open mouth, searching for words. "A great morning, in fact. But what brings you here?"

"You do."

She took his hands again and stood on her toes, leaning forward to kiss him. The kiss was slower this time, with both of them closing their eyes for a few heartbeats as they tasted each other's lips. For a moment, he felt the curves of her body pressing lightly against him.

Derry was again struck speechless for a moment, but soon broke the silence with a chuckle and a broad grin.

"Don't get me wrong, I appreciate the attention. I just thought you were here with someone else, is all."

"A beautiful woman comes to you, and you ask questions?" Bridget laughed. "If you must know, he was just my ride. He's fun, but not as fun as you."

"Fun?" Derry grinned. "Oh, I'd like to think I'm fun, but it's been a while since-"

Bridget laughed.

"Oh, you're fun alright. You've forgotten, but I'm here to help you remember."

Derry paused for a moment, lost in thought as he looked into Bridget's bright green eyes. Her eyes matched the color of her dress, which matched the color of the green leaves on the trees all around them.

"Are you the one who left the notes?"

"Notes? Ooh, they must be from the wee folk! Let me see!"

Bridget started hopping up and down excitedly, her eyes sparkling wildly in the sunshine, and her lips spreading in a broad smile. Derry chuckled and reached into his pocket to pull out the most recent scrap of parchment. As Bridget read the note, she calmed down a bit, her expression settling into a warm smile.

"Ah, the wee folk have always been fond of Yeats. All of us are, but especially the wee ones." She put the note back in Derry's pocket. "And they chose their verse well. Come, I have something to show you."

Bridget took Derry by the hand and started leading him out of the clearing and down the path.

"Where are we going?"

"Oh, we're going to the real festival." She glanced back at Derry with an impish grin. "I want you to meet my friends!"

Derry chuckled. "Alright, then."

For a few minutes, Bridget led him down the long and wandering path. When she turned left at a big oak tree and started leading Derry off of the trail, his heartbeat picked up and his stomach churned with a twinge of anxiety.

This patch of woods was small enough that Derry had walked every path at least several times during his explorations back in college. However, he hadn't strayed very far from the path, except for one or two spots near the big festival field. Was there some hidden hollow he wasn't aware of? Maybe there really was an underground festival off in the woods.

As Bridget led him further from the path, Derry soon lost his sense of direction. For a moment, he considered asking her how much farther it was to the other festival. But then she glanced back at him with a warm smile and started singing a soft, sweet tune in time with their footsteps. There were no words to this tune; only a "woo" sung at different pitches to carry the melody. Derry found her voice enchanting and soothing. In spite of the lack of lyrics, he soon lost himself in the melody and the charming rise and fall of her voice.

When her song slid to a smooth finish, Derry found himself hand in hand with Bridget, looking into her eyes with a soft smile.

"We're almost there, my love. But before we go over the last hill, you'll need this."

Bridget reached down to a long green cloth that was tied around her waist and started untying it. When she raised the cloth to cover Derry's eyes, he instinctively held out a hand to stop her.

"Is that a blindfold?"

Bridget smiled.

"Yes."

As Derry looked into her eyes, he noticed that her face was already shaded by the onset of dust. Had they really been walking all day?

Bridget stood on her toes and leaned forward, giving Derry a long, deep kiss. She wrapped her arms around him and pressed her body against his, melting into his embrace as their tongues danced together between their lips. Before Derry had time to catch his breath, she slid the blindfold over his eyes and tied it behind his head.

"Now, we spin three times, and take thirteen steps back through the gate."

Derry's eyes were still open, but the blindfold was thick enough that he could only see the slightest hints of light along the edges. He felt Bridget's hands slide up his arms, coming to rest on his shoulders for a moment before applying swift pressure to spin him in place.

"One. Two. Three!"

As Derry spun in place, he felt mildly dizzy. After a moment's pause, Bridget's hands slid to his hips, and he felt a tug on them, leading him to start stepping backward.

"One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten. Eleven. Twelve. Thirteen!"

Bridget's hands slid from Derry's hips and grasped him by the shoulders, spinning him around a half-turn to face the direction that she had led him. After another pause, she gave him another kiss, running her fingers down his back as their tongues met again for only a moment. Then, she stepped behind him to untie the blindfold.

When the blindfold dropped to the forest floor at his feet, Derry was stunned by what he saw.

The sun had finished setting, and twilight was giving way to night. The clearing before him, however, was illuminated by a broad circle of eight torches planted in the ground on long wooden posts. At the center of this circle sat a ten foot long table covered with plates and bowls full of fresh figs, cherries, persimmons, grapes, almonds, walnuts, olives, avocados, and more exotic fruits and nuts that Derry didn't even recognize. Several wooden chalices and large clay mugs were nestled among the overflowing heaps of fruits and nuts, and several wooden bottles and caskets sat on the forest floor surrounding the table.

Even more striking, however, was the curious crowd of several dozen people gathered around the table.

There were no chairs, but the table was low enough to the ground that a person of average height could sit on the forest floor and comfortably partake of the feast. However, most of the people in the circle were not of average height. A few were Bridget's height, but some were the size of toddlers or infants even though they were clearly adults. A few on the far side of the circle loomed much taller than Derry even though they were seated. Some of them were men, but most were women. All of the women were young, with bright eyes and long flowing hair, all wearing green or brown dresses similar to Bridget's, or in some cases nothing at all.

For a moment, they all simply smiled at him, their eyes widening in anticipation. Then, they started beckoning him forward and chattering amongst themselves. Derry glanced back at Bridget for a moment, and she laughed.

"Go ahead, silly! Join us in the feast!"

Derry took a few hesitant steps forward into the circle, and some of the littlest people rushed forward to greet him, taking his hands and tugging at his jeans to lead him onward. Once Derry had taken a seat on the ground at the table, one of the impossibly large men at the back of the circle nodded in approval and raised his arms high overhead.

"Let the feast begin!"

The creature's voice was a low, deep rumble that shook the very earth as he spoke. For a moment, the sheer force of it startled Derry – but the warm tone and good company set his mind at ease. A few of the pint-sized people started hopping around the edge of the table to snatch figs and berries, but the bigger ones waited patiently for Derry to take the first bite.

Derry picked up a grape and popped it in his mouth. Maybe it was just his imagination, but he was absolutely certain that this was the juiciest, sweetest red grape he had ever tasted. He tried one of the green ones, and it had just enough of the sour green flavor to complement its mild sweetness perfectly.

Bridget plopped down by Derry's side, and the two of them started feeding each other fruit and nuts from the table. After a few moments, one of the tiniest people of all – no bigger than a squirrel, really – hopped onto the table and lifted a plump fig in Derry's general direction. Derry chuckled as the poor fellow struggled a bit under the weight of the soft, wet fruit. He lowered his lips to pick up the fig with his lips and teeth, then ate it whole. The little man who had handed him the fruit clapped and giggled and scampered away over the mountains of fruits and nuts and berries on the table.

After enjoying the feast for a while, Derry turned to Bridget.

"Are you a fairy?"

Bridget smiled.

"What do you think?"

Derry chuckled.

"I never knew that fairies worked in Accounting, though."

Bridget laughed.

"Some of us are more Fae than others. Some of us live in the woods, and some of us live in town. Even accountants need a little magic in their lives, yes?"

Derry was just starting to contemplate her answer when she leaned in suddenly and kissed him. Her lips tasted like honeydew, and her fingers were cool and soft as she traced them down his arm and across his open palm. A few of the smaller people at the table laughed and giggled, and a few of the larger ones smiled and nodded knowingly. One of the littlest people pretended to cover her eyes with her hands, but peeked through her fingers.

After finishing one last fig, Derry looked Bridget in the eyes, ran his fingers down her cheek and neck, and planted a long, deep kiss on her lips. Their eyes closed for a moment as their lips and tongues met, and he ran his fingers through her long red hair, tracing his fingers down her back until his hands came to rest on her hips.

Everyone in the circle started hooting and hollering and clapping and giggling in approval. Bridget wrapped her arms around Derry, and the two of them kissed again, their eyes consumed with a wild look as their breath deepened and their hands explored the curves of each other's bodies.

Soon, everyone in the circle abandoned what remained of the feast and surrounded Derry and Bridget to join in the fun. Derry felt many hands of all shapes and sizes pulling off his jeans and lifting his shirt overhead. Bridget slipped out of her dress easily with the help of her Fae companions. Someone started extinguishing the torches at the edges of the circle, and soon Derry and Bridget found themselves in the midst of a heap of writhing, moaning bodies making love to one another. The full moon rose high overhead, kissing their glistening flesh with moonlight, caressing their undulating bodies with a silver sheen that seemed to make the ecstatic mass of flesh shine with an inner radiance.

At first, Derry and Bridget remained in each other's arms, delighted in the rapture that surrounded them, but focusing on each other's pleasures. After their lovemaking had reached its peak, however, they were easily swayed into the company of other lovers, seduced by the glow of fiery eyes shimmering in the moonlight, the caress of fingers and tongues across their skin, the sting of playful slaps against exposed flesh, the surprise of eager nibbling in tender places.

Every moment brought Derry deeper into the throes of ecstasy, filling him with an energy that allowed him to continue for hours into the night, far longer than he would have imagined possible. But even so, he eventually found himself lying down on the cool forest floor to rest. As he stared up at the stars and the setting moon, Bridget and a few others cuddled around him, and he soon found himself drifting off to sleep.

When Derry awoke, he felt very strange. As he opened his eyes, he realized why.

Something had changed.

Derry rose to his feet, examining his body in the starlight. For a moment, he thought that someone had clothed him in a body suit decorated with leaves. However, when he ran his hands along his body, he soon realized that he was still naked, and hundreds of bright green leaves had sprouted all over his body while he slept.

For a moment, his pulse quickened and his stomach churned with fear. Then, he remembered the pleasures of last night. He ran his hands through the dense foliage of his chest and belly. Each leaf was a bit more fleshy than an ordinary leaf, and he could feel his fingers tracing along their surfaces as though the leaves were a part of his skin. A light wind touched him for a moment, and he felt each of his leaves tremble in delight as the cool wind caressed them.

Derry looked around the circle. Most of the people were gone, but a few of them were sleeping in small heaps around the clearing. One of the tiniest people was curled up in a bowl on the table, using a fig as a pillow and smiling contentedly in her sleep.

"Good morning, sleepyhead."

Bridget spoke softly from the edge of the circle. She was still nude, her long red hair flowing down across her bare shoulders and breasts. Even with the moon no longer in sight, the starlight still touched her pale skin with a soft silver glow. Derry looked into her eyes, delighting in their green sparkle, responding to her light smile with a broad grin of his own.

"Good morning."

For a moment, the two looked at each other in comfortable silence. As Derry breathed, he felt the trees and soil breathing all around him. After a few breaths, he also started to feel Bridget's breath as though it were his own. He watched her chest rise and fall, and though he couldn't explain it, he felt her heart beating and her blood flowing through her veins.

Bridget took a few steps forward and took Derry by the hand.

"It's time for the ritual."

"Ritual?" Derry gave her a quizzical look, his lips still upturned in a smile.

"You're one of us now. It's time to pledge your service to the Lady and Lord of the Wildwood."

Bridget kissed him lightly on the lips, then led him by the hand to the edge of the circle. It was still fairly dark out, but Derry thought he noticed the first hints of twilight before dawn. In spite of the darkness, he was still able to see where he was going as Bridget led him deeper into the woods.

As they walked, Derry once again felt the trees and soil and other plants breathing in and out all around them. The leaves of his own body brought him the most intense sensations, but as the wind picked up again, he could feel it rustling through the leaves on the trees all around him as well. He felt their roots slowly drawing up water and nutrients, and he felt their leaves tingling slightly in anticipation of the sunrise.

Soon, they reached another, smaller clearing. This clearing also had a circle of eight torches at its perimeter. There was a tall man with long black hair and flowing green robes standing at the far side of the circle.

Derry recognized the man from earlier that night. The two had never spoken, but this man had been the first to make love with Bridget after Derry and Bridget had parted ways. After studying the man for a moment, Derry noticed that the far edge of the circle was lined with the silhouettes of the people he had feasted with earlier.

Bridget let go of Derry's hand and walked over to the man in green. Soon, several child-sized people rushed forward to clothe her in her flowing green dress. Once she was fully clothed, she joined hands with the man in green. They stepped together toward the center of the circle, motioning for Derry to join them.

Derry stepped forward. For a moment, they stood together in silence. Then, it was Bridget who spoke.

"Derry."

Bridget's expression was very solemn – more calm and serious than Derry had ever seen her.

"You have joined us in the Feast of the Wildwood. You have given your heart to us. You have given your flesh to us. You have become one of us."

Derry heard the chatter of voices at the far edge of the circle. When he looked at the people at the edge of the clearing, he started feeling the pulse of breath and blood through many bodies, big and small, just as he had felt the pulse in Bridget and the pulse in the trees.

Bridget paused a moment, waiting for Derry to return his focus to her. When he did, she flashed him a soft, sweet smile. Soon, however, her expression became solemn and serious again.

"You have been given a gift, Derry. And now, we ask a gift in return."

She took a step forward.

"The Lady and Lord of the Wildwood need you. Your people have forgotten our ways and lain waste to our ancient groves out of ignorance and greed. The Wildwood will only survive if people among you give yourselves fully and freely to us. Do you pledge your heart, your flesh, and your life, to the service of the Lady and Lord of the Wildwood?"

Derry paused a moment, considering her words carefully. He had long appreciated his time spent in the woods, but never done anything to protect them, aside from occasionally cleaning up litter during his camping and afternoon hikes. Now, he had the opportunity to do so much more – and would more nights of pleasure await him along the way?

As Derry felt the life pulse in the trees and soil and people all around him, any lingering doubts evaporated.

"Yes. Yes, I do."

Bridget and the man in green looked to each other and nodded. Then, Bridget stepped forward.

"Then kneel before me, Derry of the Wildwood."

Derry nodded and fell to one knee in the center of the circle. As he lowered his eyes to the ground, Bridget stepped to his side, and someone scurried forward to hand her something long and slender wrapped in a tanned leather hide. At the same time, a naked little person no bigger than a squirrel also scurried forward and set something on the ground in front of Derry at the center of the circle.

A broad grin spread across Derry's lips. It was a scrap of green parchment, wrapped in a dandelion stem just like the others.

Derry untied the dandelion and set it on the ground. As he unrolled the scroll, he heard a soft sliding sound from Bridget's direction. He also caught a glimpse of something metallic out of the corner of his eye. His attention, however, was fully focused on the scroll in his hands.

The writing on the frayed green parchment contained the same exquisite penmanship as the previous messages. This scroll, however, contained two lines rather than one.

for the world's more full of weeping

than you can understand.

The smile faded from Derry's lips, and a puzzled expression spread across his face. He lowered the scroll a bit and sighed, brow furrowed as he contemplated the meaning of the final passage.

Suddenly, Derry heard the whiff of something swinging through the air and felt the sting of a blade at the back of his neck. The swordstrike was well-placed, severing Derry's head entirely in a single blow. His head tumbled forward onto the forest floor, and he felt hot red-green blood spurting out from his collapsing body, pooling in the soil all around him. As his consciousness started to fade, he heard everyone at the far end of the circle hooting and hollering and clapping and giggling. Their singing and dancing shook the earth all around him, and his vision soon faded to black.

Bridget and the man in green stood hand in hand near the center of the circle, looking down at the Derry's head and prone body lying at their feet. As the ruckus around them continued, the soil beneath the leafy severed head slowly opened like a huge earthen maw, devouring the head and sucking the red-green blood deep into the soil with an audible slurp.

Bridget's already pale complexion had turned ashen in the faint light of dawn. She shook her head with a sigh and looked up to the man in green.

"Such a pity. He made such a splendid Green Man. I would have loved to keep him around much longer."

"Yes, my Lady." The Lord of the Wildwood squeezed her palm lightly and ran his free hand across her cheek, wiping away the single tear he found there. "But time is short, and many more seeds must be sown if we are to save this world."

A team of a dozen of the littlest people gathered around Derry's leafy body, hefting it onto their shoulders. They sang and whistled merry tunes as they carried it off into the woods. The Lady and Lord of the Wildwood exchanged a long, deep kiss, their arms wrapping around each other in a close embrace. Then, the Lord of the Wildwood followed his people back into the woods, while Bridget turned away and started the long walk back to the parking lot.

Time was short, and there were many more seeds to gather and sow.

Anomalous

Cliff stared at the rusty behemoth in silent awe. He had no idea what exactly this structure was, but his contact had called it a coal loader crane. It was a several story tall metal frame composed of a latticework of metal girders, crossbars, and several metal walkways that connected to a larger ramp on the edge of the river. The coal loader crane rose above the river on a handful of massive rusty pylons surrounded by patches of grass, bits of broken machinery, and bare dirt that trailed off into the river.

The rest of the abandoned industrial park had been littered with numerous brick buildings in various states of disrepair and demolition. Several of the broken brick walls had been spray-painted with elaborate works of graffiti art. Others had been tagged with simple spray paint letters or left alone. As Cliff crossed the last patch of overgrown grass and dirt between him and the river, he took one last look around to make sure that no one was following him.

Once he was sure he was alone, Cliff headed down the riverbank and stood at the edge of the river. After looking around for a few moments, he found the graffiti he was looking for: a large, irregular, red letter "A" at the center of a lopsided red circle.

Cliff instinctively reached for his cell phone, then remembered that he had thrown it away yesterday. Glancing down at his cheap new watch, he realized that he was twenty minutes early.

"Hey."

Cliff twitched slightly in surprise. He turned to see a young woman crouching on top of one of the neighboring metal pylons. She slid over the edge, lowering herself down and letting go in one smooth and silent motion. She dropped a full story, landed softly on her feet, and walked over to Cliff, extending a gloved palm to shake his hand.

"You must be Cliff. I'm Linda."

Linda was a short, plump woman in her early thirties with sharp blue eyes, black cargo pants, a black leather jacket, and shoulder-length brown hair.

"Hi. Um..." He paused, fumbling for words. "Thanks for meeting up with me."

"No problem." She looked around for a moment, then looked back at Cliff. "Let's go."

Linda turned away and started walking briskly up the riverbank. Cliff followed a few feet behind her at first, struggling to keep up until they made it back to level ground. Then, he caught up to her and walked alongside her.

For a minute or two, they walked in silence across the patches of grass, weaving their way around clumps of broken bricks and machinery. As they walked through the footprint of a mostly demolished building, it was Linda who broke the silence.

"So when did you figure it out?"

Cliff looked at her quizzically. She smirked, shaking her head.

"Anomalous, Cliff. When did you figure out you were a freak?"

She chuckled, slapping him on the back hard enough to make him jump a bit.

"No offense, we're all freaks here."

Cliff looked around nervously.

"Well, I always felt different."

He sighed, shaking his head slowly.

"I always liked playing with rocks and minerals. That's why I became a geology major. I've always felt an affinity for stones, and I actually found diamonds over at Crater of Diamonds State Park. But last Tuesday..."

He paused, holding his breath for several seconds and sighing again before continuing.

"I'm sorry, it still sounds crazy to say it out loud."

Linda laughed. "Trust me, I've seen crazier shit in the past three years than you've seen in your entire life."

Cliff stopped, fumbling through his pockets for a moment before pulling out a jagged hunk of unfinished ore. Linda stopped next to him, examining the stone for a moment before looking back up at him.

"Is that hematite?"

"Yes." Cliff smiled and nodded. "Now watch this."

He held the hematite in his left palm and raised his right palm a few inches over it. His brow furrowed and his breathing grew heavier as he stared intently at the stone. After a few moments, the stone started shifting shape with a faint popping noise like the sound of knuckles cracking. Soon, the hematite had taken on the rough shape of a cube. The sides of the cube still had an unfinished look, but they were smoother than they had been before the transformation.

Linda nodded, a broad smile spreading across her lips.

"Nice. I'll admit that's gotta be in my top ten."

She started walking again. Cliff tucked the hematite back in his pocket and followed close by her side.

"I'm a healer, and my healing helps me step up my martial arts and parkour. I'm thinking of writing a how-to manual about that, honestly. And I'm a little clairvoyant too. Not much though. And the Order has these little black boxes that interfere with psychic abilities."

"The Order? I think I read about them on your website. Are they the ones who tried to arrest me?"

"Yeah. Well, probably." Linda smirked. "You never know, there's also some rich guy who hunts Anomalies. God only knows what he does with us when he catches us. He's got a lot of nicknames, but around here we call him the Bogeyman."

As they reached the edge of the industrial park, they climbed through a break in the fence and started walking down an empty street. Linda studied their surroundings carefully as they continued walking and talking.

"Okay, so Anomalous Revolution is a decentralized network that probably has cells in every country on the planet. I say probably because we really are decentralized. Nobody knows exactly how many cells are out there. There are at least two cells here in St. Louis, but there might be more."

Linda noticed a group of five well-dressed teenagers walking together on the other side of the street. They were lost in boisterous conversation and seemed oblivious to Linda and Cliff's presence, but she paused for a few moments until they were well past the teens.

"I'm taking you to a safe house that one of the cells set up for strays like you. They'll get you a fake ID and a new job." She smirked. "You think you can handle retail?"

Cliff chuckled. "I guess it beats getting dissected."

"Yeah, I know, right?" Linda laughed. "Once they get to know you, they'll find something better."

Linda suddenly slowed to a stop, holding out a hand to stop Cliff in place.

"Something's wrong."

The blood drained from her face as she looked around in every direction, carefully studying her surroundings. After a few quick glances up and down the street, she pulled Cliff into the alley that they had just walked past and started walking briskly, her hand still clenching his upper arm.

"What is it?" He looked up and down the alley, then looked over at Linda. "Did you see something?"

"No. And that's the problem." She shook her head, her face and fists clenching in anger. "I can't see the safe house. I can't see anything. I'm pretty sure—"

Linda and Cliff both froze as a lone figure stepped out in front of them. He was a man in his mid-twenties in a cheap blue business suit. The man was walking slowly down the sidewalk at the end of the alley twenty feet away, staring down at a somewhat crumpled map. After a moment or two, he paused in mid-step and looked down the alley.

"Excuse me." He looked their way and took a tentative step forward, a confused look on his face. "I'm looking for—"

Linda turned to Cliff, letting go of his arm.

"Run."

Without another word, she burst down the alley at full speed, running away from the man in the business suit. For a moment, Cliff hesitated. But when the man threw down his map and glared at Linda, Cliff followed her down the alley.

"This way!"

Linda sprinted across the street at an impossible speed, leaping over a waist-high fence before Cliff had even made it into the alley. As she made it to the far side of the parking lot behind the fence, she paused, waiting for Cliff to catch up. But just as Cliff put his hands on the fence, he felt a sharp sting in the middle of his back.

"Shit. Sorry Cliff, I'm really sorry."

Linda leapt over the next fence, and Cliff struggled to climb over the first fence to follow her. But suddenly, his arms and legs felt very heavy, and he felt very tired. As he collapsed onto the sidewalk, the man in the business suit descended upon him with gun drawn.

"Stay down! Stay down!"

Cliff struggled to move, but his body refused to respond and his mind was growing foggy. Soon, everything faded to black.

"Clifford Barry Johnson."

Cliff opened his eyes, blinking and squinting in response to the harsh fluorescent lights overhead. After a few moments, his eyes adjusted to the light, and he was able to examine his surroundings.

He was in a windowless rectangular room, ten feet by twenty feet, with smooth white walls, a bare steel table, a steel door, and several sets of fluorescent lights embedded into the office tile ceiling. He was sitting at the table in a steel chair with steel cuffs around his wrists and ankles. A man in an expensive black business suit was standing on the other side of the table with clipboard in hand, glancing back and forth between Cliff and the clipboard.

"There we go. Clifford Barry Johnson. Are you awake now?"

Cliff nodded slowly. His throat was dry, and he his whole body ached, especially his head. As the memory of his capture returned to him, he lowered his head with a sigh.

"Now, now, Mr. Johnson. Don't look so glum." The man in the suit smirked at Cliff for a moment, then his expression grew more serious. "I take it you know why you're here?"

Cliff nodded. The man continued.

"You're a very lucky man, Mr. Johnson. Our tests confirm that your anomalous condition poses very little threat to the general public. Therefore, you are eligible for Section A."

Cliff stared at him blankly for a moment.

"Section A?"

"Yes."

He took a sheet of paper from his clipboard, sliding it across the table in front of Cliff.

"Section A is our outpatient program. I like to call it 'tag and release'. You receive a monthly stipend to help with living expenses, as well weekly visits with a social worker trained in dealing with the challenges faced by people with your condition. In return, you agree to maintain a current address with the Registry and avoid any activities or communications concerning your anomalous condition."

Cliff leaned forward, looking down at the paper on the desk. It appeared to be a fairly simply form outlining the details of what the man in the suit had just explained. At the bottom of the form, there was a single line with a space for his signature and the date.

Cliff nodded slowly, lost in thought. After a few moments, he looked up at the man in the suit.

"What if I don't sign?"

The man in the suit chuckled, adjusting his tie with a sly smile.

"Let's not even go there, Mr. Johnson. Are you ready to sign?"

Cliff stared blankly at the paper. After a few moments, he let out a long, slow sigh, his head slumping forward as he stared down at his feet.

"Alright, I'll sign."

The man in the suit smiled.

"Good."

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a remote control, pressing a button to release the steel cuffs on Cliff's arms and legs. Cliff rubbed his wrists as the man in the suit slid a pen over to his side of the table. After a moment's hesitation, Cliff signed the paper, pushing it back across the table.

The man in the suit smiled broadly, picking up the paper and tucking it beneath the clip on his clipboard.

"Excellent."

Cliff heard a buzzing noise, and the door behind the man in the suit slid open slightly. The man in the suit pushed the door open fully, motioning for Cliff to step out into the office beyond it.

"We've already implanted your tracking device. One of our associates will give you an exit interview and direct you down the hall to receive your new ID."

Cliff stood up, staring at the man in the suit warily.

"That's it?"

The man nodded and smiled.

"That's it."

He set down the clipboard, extending his hand to Cliff.

"We're really not as bad as some people say we are. Mr. Johnson, I wish you the best of luck in your new life."

Cliff stared at the man's hand blankly for a moment, then accepted the handshake.

"Um, thanks."

He looked back at the metal chair he had been locked into a few moments ago, then wandered out into the office in a daze.

Cliff was enjoying his first visit to the Missouri Botanical Garden. He was walking hand in hand through the Japanese strolling garden with Jennifer, a beautiful young woman he had met three weeks ago at work. As they walked down the path, he breathed in the mild scent of flowers and took in the sights of the simple but elegant greenery that surrounded them. He listened idly to Jennifer's boisterous commentary about the garden as they paused on the bridge to appreciate their surroundings.

For a long while, Cliff was absorbed in the moment, looking out on the lake and wrapping an arm around Jennifer's shoulder. Soon, however, out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of a familiar figure.

It was Linda.

For a long moment, the two exchanged a meaningful glance. Cliff's heart started racing, and his hand absent-mindedly wandered to the slight scar on his chest where the Order had implanted the tracking device. As he looked into Linda's wide, stunned, eyes, he wondered for a moment if the tracking device really did have a detonator, and if Linda knew someone who could remove it.

But then, the moment passed. He broke eye contact with Linda, looking away with a sigh. For several moments, he stared blankly over the water, his eyes fixating on a single leaf falling from a tree on the distant shore. As the leaf settled onto the surface of the water, he snapped out of his trance, looking back to Jennifer.

"Cliff? Is something wrong?"

Cliff shook his head, his lips automatically spreading into a smile at the sight of her bright blue eyes.

"No, everthing's fine. I was just lost in thought."

He glanced back where Linda had been standing, but she was gone.

"Come on, let's keep going. We don't want to be late for dinner."

He leaned forward, giving Jennifer a quick kiss and taking her by the hand. As they walked down the path together, he squeezed her hand lightly and flashed her a quick smile. She smiled back at him, her eyes lingering on him for a moment until she slipped back into her running monologue on the various plants and history of the botanical garden.

By the time they made it to Jennifer's car an hour later, Cliff had set aside any thoughts of who he had seen in the garden. He got into the car and rode off to dinner with Jennifer, never looking back.
Imbalance

"She's not coming."

The words brought Rory's attention back to the present. He glanced down at his cell phone and noticed that it was 12:13 a.m. A quick scan of the half-empty bar confirmed that Morgan was nowhere to be seen.

"Come on, Locust. She's only thirteen minutes late. She'll be here."

"No way, man." Locust shook his head. "She's never late. I'm telling you, man, she's just not coming. None of them are."

Rory took another long gulp of his Guinness and looked off into the distance. Now that Morgan had an internship with the Sierra Club, she was showing up less and less often. Aaron and Amber hadn't been around much since they had a baby two months ago. Eric and Jason had drifted off into the art subculture again. Husky was always up for anything green, but not always aware of what day of the week it was. That brought the number of active members of the Climate Action Coalition down to two.

Locust squirmed in place slightly, rolling his bottle of beer slowly between his palms and looking around the bar anxiously.

"So what do we do? We can't do another protest if it's just the two of us. Hell, I don't even have gas money."

Rory finished his drink and slid the empty glass toward the bartender.

"I'll have another."

Once a fresh pint of Guinness arrived, he stared into the dark liquid for a long moment before responding.

"Plan B."

Locust's eyes widened. He cast a few quick glances around the bar, leaning in closer and lowering his voice before continuing.

"I don't know, Rory. Don't you think Plan B is part of the problem? I mean maybe a year ago, but now Morgan has a job, and—"

"Then why didn't we do it a year ago?" Rory sighed, closing his eyes and rubbing his temples. "Did we think it was going to get any better? Did we think a few petitions and photos on some website would change anything?"

Locust's expression brightened.

"We did! We really did. So many people mobilized for Copenhagen. And then when that didn't work, Occupy took on the whole system."

"And then?"

"And then?" Locust shrugged. "I don't know. I guess we're all waiting for the next big thing."

Rory laughed coldly.

"Waiting. Watching. Reacting. That's what they want. They're going to burn every drop of oil on the planet. And nobody's going to stop them because they're too busy working for the corporations, or pumping out babies, or watching Jersey Shore."

"Yeah." Locust chuckled. "Or Twilight."

Rory smiled for a moment, but the somber expression returned before he spoke.

"So we agree that think tanks like the International Prometheus Consortium are funded by the oil industry and are the biggest barrier to public action on climate change."

Locust nodded. Rory continued.

"And we agree that the only way to expose the IPC and their lies is to shine a public light on who they are and how they're tampering with public opinion and public policy on climate change."

Locust nodded again, and Rory took several long gulps from his drink before continuing.

"Then we need to do it. We need to break into the IPC."

Locust's eyes widened. "Shh! I'm with you, man, but—"

"But what?"

Rory finished his beer, pushing it toward the bartender and asking for another before continuing.

"You really think another protest is going to do anything?" He chuckled, his eyes shining with a mix of humor and anger. "Don't worry, I'm not talking about burning it down. I'm just talking about smashing every damned computer in the building and releasing a communique about it. It'll be on the cable news shows before we even make it home. Mission accomplished."

Locust looked down at his beer bottle for a few moments. He took another drink and shook his head with a sigh.

"I don't know, man. It just doesn't seem worth it, you know? If we get caught."

"Not worth it?" Rory let go of his new drink for a moment, glaring at Locust and clenching his fists in anger. "Even if you don't care about what they're doing to the land itself, think of the people. These tornadoes, wildfires, hurricanes, are just the beginning. Millions of environmental refugees. Tens of millions. In our lifetime. You saw what happened to Joplin. There are going to be a thousand Joplins. And a thousand Katrinas. And a thousand Sandys. Hell, we could be next."

Locust nodded. "Yeah, but—"

"No buts. I'm doing this. If you want to stay home, stay home. But I'm doing this."

For a few minutes, the two sat together in silence. Locust sipped at his beer slowly, but Rory gulped down the rest of his beer before continuing.

"And you know what? If nobody listens, all the better. Sometimes I think that nobody will listen until the storms have leveled every city in the world. Even then, people may not listen. Either way, problem solved."

Rory pushed away his beer glass and threw a tip down on the table. Before Locust could interrupt, he stood up and walked out of the bar.

It was unusually cool outside for a night in early May. The sky was overcast, obscuring the full moon and hinting at the possibility of rain. Rory crossed the street and walked down the block to where his green and black motorcycle was parked. After slipping on his black helmet, he hopped onto the motorcycle, turned the key in the ignition, and sped off into the night.

As the city lights of Columbia, Missouri faded into the distance behind him, Rory was lost in a swirling maelstrom of emotions. He was the one who had asked Morgan to keep their relationship casual, but now that she was gone, he felt cast adrift on a raging ocean of personal and political unrest. His mind was flooded with a seemingly endless stream of memories related to climate change: volunteering with an ecological restoration project in New Orleans; doing a food drive for relief efforts in Joplin; researching his senior thesis; watching an endless stream of cable news pundits; protesting outside the IPC headquarters last year.

The eastern horizon was clear, but as Rory sped down the highway on his way to St. Louis, the storm sped ahead of him, enveloping the sky in a thick indigo blanket of churning clouds illuminated by occasional flashes of lightning. The rain started falling all around him, and with it came the tears—a mix of sorrow, joy, and some deeper emotion that he couldn't find a name for.

After two hours of driving, he found himself on the streets of St. Louis, quietly making his way to his destination. He'd only been there once before, but after a few frustrating wrong turns, he found his way. After parking a few blocks away, he set out on foot for the small yet ostentatious office building that the IPC called home.

Prometheus Plaza looked entirely out of place amidst the more traditional storefronts and restaurants of the neighborhood. The plaza spanned an entire city block and featured a smooth stone floor, winding rows of stone pillars that stood several stories tall, and a thirty foot tall stone statue of Prometheus holding a steel torch with a real blue fire that burned brightly even in the rain. The office building at the center of the plaza dominated the landscape, a steel and glass sculpture that was broad at the base and twirled into a tapered top like the tip of a flame.

Rory stood on the sidewalk at the edge of the plaza, glaring silently at the cold stone statue and shiny torch tower that stood before him. There were no visible cameras or guards, but the exterior of the building was brightly illuminated by a series of floodlights and blue flame sconces, ensuring that anyone who dared approach it at night would be highly visible.

As Rory glared at the tower, he felt a strange pressure building in the air all around him. The office building had even more glass than Rory had remembered. It occurred to him that a tornado like the one that had hit Joplin would tear this building to pieces.

Suddenly, the hair on his arms and the back of his neck stood on end. He felt a burst of adrenaline surging through his body. His nostrils flared, breathing in the electric scent of the rain and lightning and thunder that surrounded him. For a moment, the rain slowed almost to a stop, and a deep calm settled over the city of St. Louis.

But the calm was short-lived. Rory felt something inside of himself that he had never felt before—a tremendous pressure and an incredible charge of static electricity. The maelstrom of emotions churning inside of him hummed in harmony with the crackle of the clouds overhead. He knew that somehow, he could unleash the full power of the storm if he wanted to.

He clenched his fists at his sides and started raising his hands in the air slowly. He drew a deep breath—and for a moment, his thoughts wavered. Was this really a good idea? Was it even real?

But with each breath he drew, the energy of the storm churned more intensely inside of him. His emotions had opened the channel, but now the sheer power of the storm was rushing in and sweeping away his inhibitions, whipping him up into a wild-eyed frenzy unlike anything he had ever felt before. He raised his trembling fists high overhead, and suddenly his voice thundered across the plaza.

"Winds of change! Humble them with your power!"

As he screamed the words, he felt wave after wave of pressure and static electricity pouring out all around him. The calm of the storm was shattered by a sudden explosion of wind and rain. A high speed gust of wind surged forward all around him, shattering dozens of windows in the tower and blowing out the torch of Prometheus. A bolt of lightning crackled between earth and sky, melting the torch shut so that the natural gas could not reignite the flame. Bits of furniture and office supplies were blown out of the building, scattering debris on the plaza below. For a few moments, some of the debris swirled around in place in front of the building, breaking loose more shards of glass and tossing them across the plaza. Soon, the moment passed, and the storm calmed to a steady drizzle.

Rory stared in wonder at the aftermath of the microburst. He was panting slightly from the exertion of directing and releasing the energy of the storm. He was a little drained physically, but mostly he felt as though a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He took a few deep breaths, grinning with a glimmer in his eyes as he looked at the shattered glass and broken office furniture that littered the plaza between him and the building.

After a few moments, it occurred to him that someone may have been watching. A few quick glances around the plaza reassured him that no one had seen him. However, he decided that he'd better get out of there before someone realized what he had done.

Would they even realize it? Would anyone really accuse him of harnessing the power of the storm?

He had experienced it firsthand, but he hardly believed it himself. Still, it was better to be safe than sorry. He started walking away from the plaza at a brisk pace, glancing at neighboring buildings but not looking back the way he came. As he hopped onto his motorcycle, he heard a siren in the distance but still didn't look back. Instead, he started the engine and drove away.

As he drove through the city, he instinctively found himself heading west. He didn't know where to go from here, but he knew that Columbia would only be a pit stop along the way.

After driving for what seemed like an eternity, the city lights of St. Louis faded into the distance behind him. Soon, he found himself turning off onto an unfamiliar side road, intuitively drawn to spend some time out in the country to recharge and reflect on what had happened.

He still wasn't entirely sure what had happened. He felt like he'd tapped into an existing imbalance in the storm itself, but he wasn't sure how he'd been able to do that or why such a thing was even possible. As his mind was flooded with question after question, there was only one thing that he knew with absolute certainty.

He wanted to do it again.
The Test

Hugh Travis sat on a steel chair facing a steel table in an otherwise empty 10 foot cube room. The floor, walls, and ceiling of the room were glossy white surfaces broken only by a small steel door behind him and a bright fluorescent light fixture overhead. The only object on the table was a black tablet that was turned on but currently had a blank screen.

Hugh stared down at the tablet. He took a deep breath, listening to the sound of his own inhale and exhale. After several more breaths, a bright white "O" appeared on the screen of the tablet. As soon as he saw the "O", Hugh put his palms on the table, closed his eyes, and waited.

He had never found a good word for it. Ever since he was a small child, random thoughts, feelings, and images would come to him seemingly out of nowhere. As he grew older, he grew more confident that these strange thoughts were in fact information he was receiving from the people around him. If he sat still and quieted his mind, he could receive this information more clearly. But since it was an awkward mix of images, sounds, thoughts, and feelings, he was never sure what to call it. He just did it.

As Hugh quieted his mind, he felt a presence just beyond the wall in front of him. It was a very willful, disciplined, intelligent consciousness. He thought he detected hints of femininity, but the mind was so sharp and focused that he couldn't read much beyond a single intense surface-level thought. It was as clear in his mind's eye as any image he had seen with his own eyes: four wavy blue lines on a red background.

Hugh opened his eyes and tapped the circle on the tablet. With a few quick taps and swipes, he chose his response.

Visual. Symbol. Wavy Lines. Blue. Red.

Soon after he entered his response, the woman on the other side of the wall had another thought in mind. This time, it was a smell, an outdoorsy scent that reminded him of his long walks alone on the beach during his depressive years in high school.

After lingering on the scent for a moment, he opened his eyes and entered his response.

Olfactory. Location. Outdoors. Ocean.

The prompts and responses continued for several minutes. They touched on a variety of types of sensory information received from the traditionally defined five senses. The sound of a bell ringing, the sight of colorful words and symbols, the taste of delicious foods, pleasant and unpleasant smells, the touch of a feather against a cheek. Eventually, the white circle flashed three times, and the tablet turned itself off.

Hugh stared quietly at the blank tablet. After a few moments, the door behind him slid open. He turned to see a familiar face—a thin man in his mid-forties with pale skin, thinning black hair, a bright white lab coat, and a sleek black suit and tie.

"How'd I do?"

Dr. Pratt looked down at his large silver tablet with a sly smile.

"Wonderful, Mr. Travis. In the seven years that I've been with this program, I've never seen a score like this. Ninety-nine percent. You weren't perfect in your olfactory identification, but that may just be due to a history of sinus infections or a genetic deficiency in the olfactory nerve. On the whole, I'd say that you're the most telepathic individual to complete the inventory."

Hugh grinned. "I've been practicing as much as I can. It's hard to be sure I'm right, though, when I can't talk to most people about it."

"Yes, yes. I imagine so." Dr. Pratt tapped and swiped on his silver tablet before continuing. "Now, let's move on to the next step. Follow me, please."

Dr. Pratt lead Hugh down a long, narrow hallway to a room similar to the one they had just left. The dimensions were the same, but this room contained a slightly curved transparent desk, an executive leather office chair, a simple steel chair for guests, a leafy green potted plant, and an ornately framed painting of a caduceus. The painting was a photorealistic depiction of two silver snakes entwined around a smooth silver staff. The staff was topped with sharp white-feathered wings lying on black velvet under a bright spotlight.

As Hugh stared at the intricate details of the painting, Dr. Pratt sat in his office chair and motioned for Hugh to take a seat. Hugh nodded, sitting down and taking one last look at the painting. Dr. Pratt set his tablet on the desk and pushed it aside, his sharp blue eyes studying Hugh carefully.

"Mr. Travis." He placed his hands on the desk, his fingertips idly tapping the smooth, clear surface several times before continuing. "Your excellent performance on the telepathy inventory has narrowed our options. Specifically, you may now choose between two options."

"Options?"

"Yes." He leaned back in his chair, tapping the desktop several more times. "Mr. Travis, I haven't been entirely straightforward with you. Our research project is part of a broader program which identifies and recruits individuals with uncommon abilities. We call these individuals Prodigies."

"I see."

The two men went several long moments without speaking. In the ensuing silence, Hugh noticed that Dr. Pratt was keeping his mind very quiet by focusing on his breathing. When Dr. Pratt noticed that he was being read, he cleared his throat and spoke.

"Your ability is a tremendous gift. However, in the wrong hands, it could be a dangerous weapon."

Hugh nodded. "Yes. I've had to learn how to tune out some of the incoming information. Other people seem to have an expectation of privacy about their thoughts. I don't fully understand why, but I—"

Dr. Pratt raised a hand to interrupt him.

"Mr. Travis, I'm authorized to offer you a choice between two options."

He lifted his silver tablet for a moment, sliding a black folder out from underneath it and pushing it toward Hugh. Hugh stared at the folder blankly for several seconds before deciding to pick it up. He started reading the document in the folder as Dr. Pratt continued.

"Option A is the preferred option. Your prodigious abilities would be put to use in service of the common good. You would receive remarkable financial compensation for your work. For security reasons, your work would be conducted in secret."

Hugh skimmed over the details. The starting salary was unbelievably high. The position's benefits included comprehensive medical insurance, life insurance, lifetime coverage for any children, and an early retirement option. One paragraph, however, left Hugh furrowing his brow in concern.

"Identity severance?"

"Ah, yes. For your security and for the integrity of the work, you would sever all ties with your current identity. You choose whether you would prefer to have a staged death or simply turn up missing."

Hugh shook his head slowly, setting down the folder and pushing it back toward Dr. Pratt.

"I don't know. It's a tempting offer, but that's really weird. What's Option B?"

"Option B." Dr. Pratt slid the folder back to Hugh. "Option B is described on the last page of your packet. Option B allows you to continue with the current trajectory of your life. You would be registered under Section A as an Anomalous individual. You would receive a monthly stipend and regular visits with a caseworker who would help you reintegrate into society. In return, you would avoid any activities or communications concerning your anomalous condition."

Hugh skimmed through the paperwork, flipping back and forth between Option A and Option B. As he read the details, his expression soured.

"These are my only options? There's no Option C?"

Dr. Pratt leaned back in his chair, the hints of a smile on his thin lips.

"Trust me, Mr. Travis. I would not recommend Option C."

For several long moments, Hugh studied the document while Dr. Pratt studied Hugh. When Hugh put down the folder and started to speak, Dr. Pratt raised a hand to interrupt him.

"No need for a hasty decision. You have twenty-four hours to decide. Personally, I would recommend Option A. It offers remarkable financial compensation and a unique opportunity to serve your country and world. But the choice is yours." He stood suddenly, extending his hand for Hugh to shake. "Good luck, Mr. Travis. I will see you here at noon tomorrow."

Hugh gave Dr. Pratt a slightly puzzled look, nodding slowly and reaching forward to accept the handshake.

"Yes. I'll see you then."

McGuire's Pub was mostly empty. It was after midnight on a weeknight, so most of the college students weren't there and most of the locals had gone home. The dimly-lit main room had a long wooden bar, a dozen stools, several booths along the wall, and a half-dozen aging wooden tables in the middle. The only bright light in the otherwise dark room came from the glow of a few neon signs and the glare of a wide-screen TV high on the wall in one corner. There were three people watching the TV, two people at the bar, and one bartender behind the bar. Aside from the buzz of the TV, it was very quiet.

Hugh looked down at his half-empty pint glass. He was halfway through his third beer and still no closer to making a decision. Option A was by far the most appealing, but could he really sever ties with his family? He hadn't visited or even spoken to his parents since Christmas, but they were still family. And what would this new job ask him to do that would require such high pay?

The bell above the door rang as a new patron entered the pub. Hugh didn't look up to see who it was until she stepped up to the bar. She was a slightly short woman in her early twenties with long red hair, bright blue eyes, pale freckled skin, a dark green T-shirt, and black jeans. The woman approached the bar a few feet away from Hugh and ordered a beer, sitting down on one of the stools and quietly waiting for her drink.

After looking at her for a moment, Hugh looked back down at his drink. While he was gathering his thoughts, the woman spoke.

"Hi there."

Hugh looked up at the woman with a smile.

"Hi."

As their eyes met, he noticed that she was already smiling. She accepted the beer from the bartender, taking a drink and leaning toward Hugh.

"My name's Vicky."

"I'm Hugh."

"Hi, Hugh. Are you new here?"

"Not really. I don't come very often, but I've been coming here for years."

"Same here. I'm surprised I haven't seen you."

Hugh shrugged. "I'm not usually here on a Tuesday night."

"Me neither." Vicky scooted onto the bar stool closest to Hugh. After taking another drink, she leaned in closer. "Tonight, though, I've got something on my mind."

"Oh? And what would that be?"

She leaned forward, whispering in his ear.

"Telepathy."

Hugh's eyes widened. "Can you do it too?"

"No." She looked around the mostly-empty bar, casually scanning her surroundings. "But I do have information you need to hear. And we don't have long."

"What information? Is this about my options?"

"Yes." She looked into his eyes, placing her palm on the back of his hand. "You've probably been given two options. But there's more to this than meets the eye. Some of us choose to live free. Some of us want to create a world where those of us who are different don't have to be registered and catalogued."

Hugh placed his free hand on top of hers. "Is it really that bad?"

"Worse." She took another drink. "Don't get me wrong. They're very loyal to their employees. Working for Order pays very well. It may even seem like a harmless job at first. But everything Order does is part of a calculated strategy to control the world's governments and economies. Anyone who doesn't go along with their plans is an Anomaly who must be neutralized."

Hugh took a long drink, staring down at his glass as he mulled over Vicky's words. He noticed that she had a very guarded consciousness. She was eager to speak with him, but in the moments of silence, she kept her mind intently focused on a memory of the sound of a metronome. The handful of other people whom he had told about his ability over the years had all tried something similar, focusing on a particular sound or image to block out other thoughts. Vicky, however, was better at it than most.

"So tell me, Vicky. What's your counter offer? If this is all true, I imagine they won't let me just walk away."

"No, they won't." She leaned in close again, lowering her voice. "There are only a few dozen of us around here, but there are thousands more around the world. The pay's not great, but the company's good. We want to create a world where people like us can share our abilities with the world instead of having them suppressed out of ignorance and fear. The only thing standing in our way is Order."

Vicky leaned back, pausing to let her words to sink in. Hugh took another drink, staring down at the almost-empty glass and weighing his options. When he looked back up at her, her eyes were bright with anticipation and her lips were spreading into a smile.

"Are you in?"

"Do I have twenty-four hours to decide?"

"No, not this time. It's not easy to arrange a public meeting like this. And if you join Order, we won't contact you." She held his hand between her palms, squeezing it lightly and looking into his eyes. "It's now or never. Are you in?"

"Okay." Hugh finished his drink and smiled at Vicky. "I'm in."

"Then it's settled." She rose to her feet with a grin, holding him by the hand and enticing him to stand. "There are some people I'd like you to meet. Come with me."

Hugh and Vicky left the pub, walking down the street at a brisk pace. Vicky's eyes darted back and forth, scanning the street for anyone watching or following them. After walking several blocks, she suddenly ducked down an alley, pulling Hugh along with her. As they approached an aging silver sedan, she turned to face Hugh.

"Here, let me put this on you."

Vicky reached into her pocket and pulled out a black silk handkerchief. Hugh felt a mix of excitement and fear as she blindfolded him, tying a tight knot at the back of his head and giving him a quick kiss.

"There you go. Don't worry, it's just a precaution for new people. Once you've met everyone, you won't need it anymore."

Vicky helped Hugh get into the car. He listened as she closed his door, opened the driver's side door, and started the car.

"Here we go!"

Vicky shifted the car into gear and pulled out of the alley. Once they were on the street, she held Hugh's hand and drove toward their destination.

"Almost there."

It had been two or three minutes since Vicky had helped him out of the car and started leading him by the hand. He couldn't see anything, but he was pretty sure that they were already in a building. He could also feel that she was at least as excited and anxious as he was. The steady tick of the metronome in her mind kept him from reading any specific thoughts, but her excitement was palpable.

"Now turn here."

Vicky led him slowly through a left turn. Once he had taken a few steps forward, she walked around him and stood behind him, guiding his hands onto the back of a chair.

"Go ahead, have a seat."

She kissed the back of his neck lightly, stepping back to give him room to move. After a few moments of feeling the back and seat of the chair, he moved in front of it and carefully sat down.

As soon as he sat down, he heard a door close behind him.

"Vicky?"

The room was silent except for the slight buzz of fluorescent lights and the sound of someone breathing.

"Vicky?"

Hugh expanded his awareness outward, searching for any signs of consciousness nearby. He felt Vicky's presence receding. There were, however, three very willful, disciplined presences in front of him. As he intensified his attention, he realized that the person in the middle seemed very familiar. He felt a sinking feeling in his stomach as he untied the blindfold and saw the face that he was afraid he would see.

Dr. Pratt was seated at his desk with his hands resting on the desktop before him. Two burly men dressed from head to toe in black body armor were standing at attention on either side of the caduceus painting. In addition to wearing bulletproof padding and wielding assault rifles, they each wore a special helmet with thick goggles and headphones.

"Mr. Travis."

"Dr. Pratt, I can-"

While Hugh spoke, he tossed aside the silk handkerchief and stood up. As soon as he rose to his feet, the men in black raised their assault rifles and aimed them at his chest. Hugh immediately froze in place. Dr. Pratt raised a hand to interrupt Hugh, motioning for him to sit down. Hugh looked at the guns, then back at Dr. Pratt, sinking slowly down into his seat. Once he was seated, they lowered their guns but kept them ready.

"Mr. Travis." Dr. Pratt tapped his fingers against the desktop several times, studying Hugh's expression with cold detachment. "I haven't been entirely straightforward with you. The telepathy inventory that we performed earlier today was merely a formality. Our sources had already confirmed your uncommon abilities. All that was required to secure your entry into Order was a different type of test. Specifically, a loyalty test."

Dr. Pratt placed his hands firmly on his desk. He leaned forward slowly, staring Hugh in the eyes for several long moments.

"You did not pass that test."

Dr. Pratt picked up his silver tablet, swiping and tapping to enter some new data. They sat together in silence for several moments until Hugh spoke.

"That's it? Can't I try again? Do something else to prove my loyalty?"

Dr. Pratt shook his head slowly. "No, Mr. Travis. Before we adopted this test, almost half of our field recruits defected during either the choice period or the transition period. They were usually approached before or after recruitment by an Anomalous person of the desired gender. Eventually, we put two and two together and developed a simple loyalty test that was more effective than any interview or inventory."

Hugh sighed, shaking his head and frowning slightly.

"So now what? I suppose I understand why you don't want me to work for you. Am I stuck with Option B?"

"No, Mr. Travis."

Dr. Pratt finished typing on his tablet. He set it down on the desk beside him, looking at Hugh with a sly smile.

"You've chosen Option C."

Hugh sat on a steel chair facing a steel table in an otherwise empty 10 foot cube room. The floor, walls, and ceiling of the room were glossy white surfaces broken only by a handleless steel door behind him and a bright fluorescent light fixture overhead. He was wearing an orange jumpsuit and his hands and legs were bound together with steel shackles. The only object on the table was a black tablet that was turned on but currently had a blank screen.

Hugh stared down at the tablet with a sigh. He never liked it when they brought him into the reading room, but it was better than the long periods of time he spent in a very similar room with a mattress and toilet instead of a desk.

As Hugh focused on the sound of his breath, a bright white "O" appeared on the screen of the tablet. Hugh put his palms on the table, closed his eyes with a sigh, and waited.

# # #

About The Author

Thank you for reading Strange Beginnings! My name is Treesong. I'm an author, poet, naturalist, philosopher, teacher, and Real Life Superhero. I live in Southern Illinois, a little-known nexus of power and possibility that has been home to many strange beginnings.

For more information on my latest adventures and publications, visit my personal website at treesong.org and my publishing website at cranncheol.com.

Books By The Author

If you enjoyed Strange Beginnings, please rate and review this book on your favorite book sites and anywhere else you talk about books. I'm an independent author, so good reviews from readers like you will really help new readers to discover my work. I also invite you to read my other published books, Change and Goodbye Miami. I've included brief descriptions below and sample chapters at the end of this book.

Change. Sarah Athraigh, an environmental activist from Southern Illinois, stumbles into the midst of a hidden war between occult factions that are grappling with the root causes and dire consequences of climate change. As she goes on the run, she soon finds herself on a journey of discovery, searching for the unusual allies and innovative ideas that will help her to make a difference for the better in a dangerous world.

Goodbye Miami: Tales Of An American Climate Refugee. Kass, an American climate refugee, flees Miami in the wake of a hurricane that leaves most of the city underwater. After moving in with her cousin in Southern Illinois, Kass struggles to deal with her displacement. She hopes to find a way to return to the city that she loves. But thanks to global warming, that city is now underwater. What starts as a search for survival quickly evolves into a struggle for the future of Miami -- and the world.
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Sample Chapter: Change

" _Death is in the air.  
Chariot out of control.  
Change is awakened."  
— Bertram Muhnugin, The Death of Birth_

Sarah opened her eyes and rose out of her crouching stance.

It had all happened so fast. An aging silver Dodge Dynasty had come crashing through the railing of the overpass and into the crosswalk below. Sarah had reflexively thrown her arms in front of herself and ducked down, knowing full well that she couldn't stop the several ton hunk of metal hurtling in her direction.

But somehow, she had.

Sarah's heart was still racing as she scanned her surroundings. The formerly airborne sedan sat motionless in the street just a few feet in front of her. It was mostly intact, aside from a shattered windshield and some compression of the front end of the frame.

The other half-dozen people in the crosswalk behind her slowly emerged from their own protective stances and stared at the car in wonder. An old man on the other side of the intersection was looking back and forth between Sarah and the car, his eyes and mouth wide in wonder. After a few moments, he started clapping slowly. Soon, everyone around the intersection joined him.

"How did you do that?"

Sarah looked down at her hands, dumbfounded.

"I don't know. I didn't even touch it. I—" She looked back at the car, wiping the sweat from her brow. "I guess I just willed it to stop." She shook her head in disbelief, turning back to the old man across the street. "I really stopped it?"

The old man nodded and started walking toward her slowly. "Lady, that old junker was about to rip your head off and land across the street. You stopped it in midair. Damnedest thing I ever seen."

"Really?" Sarah turned back to the wreckage, shaking her head again. "I wish I'd kept my eyes open."

The people around her burst into uneasy laughter. Sarah's heart was still racing, but she chuckled too.

"Is everyone all right?"

The bystanders looked around. Nobody seemed hurt. The car had landed in the street without hitting anyone. The driver stepped out of the car and examined it carefully, looking even more confused than the people in the crosswalk.

Sarah and a few of the other pedestrians walked around the car slowly, making sure that no one had been crushed beneath it. After a few minutes, several police cars and an ambulance arrived, followed by a news van.

An officer with a notepad stepped out of the nearest police car. He spoke first with the driver of the Dynasty, then with a few of the other pedestrians. Finally, he shook his head, took a deep breath, and walked over to Sarah.

"Ma'am, I'm Officer Harold of the Gorton Police Department. Mind if I ask you a few questions?"

Sarah laughed nervously. "Sure, why not?"

Officer Harold nodded. "Your name?"

"Sarah Athraigh. Sarah with an H, Athraigh with an A-T-H-R-A-I-G-H. You can call me Sarah."

"Alright, Sarah. Can I see some ID?"

Sarah pulled out her wallet and showed the officer her driver's license. He wrote down her name and address in his notebook before handing the license back to her.

"Got it." He paused, lowering the notepad and looking Sarah in the eye. "Look, Sarah, I'm not going to lie here. I'm a little skeptical about what these other people are telling me. So I'd like you to tell me, in your own words, what happened here."

Sarah laughed. "I wish I knew, Officer. I was just crossing the street, when suddenly this car crashed through the railing on the overpass. I covered my head, closed my eyes, and figured I was about to get hit. But then it just stopped."

"Huh. Just stopped?"

"In mid-air. I had my eyes closed, but in my mind's eye, I just saw the car stopping in mid-air — and it did!" She looked at the damaged car, then back at Officer Harold with another nervous laugh. "Officer, that car was about to plow right through me. But somehow, something stopped it. I don't know if it was something I did, or divine intervention, or what. But whatever it was, it saved my life."

Officer Harold nodded slowly. "Well, that's what they said too." He looked at her, then over at the car, then back at her again. "And where were you standing when the accident happened?"

Sarah looked down at the ground. "Right around here, officer. I took a quick look around the car to make sure everyone was all right, but then I came back to this spot."

Office Harold shook his head with a sigh. "Alright, Sarah."

He handed her a business card. "Here's my card. If you think of anything else — anything at all — please give us a call."

"Okay. Thanks, Officer."

Officer Harold started walking away, then turned back to her. "Oh, I almost forgot. There's a reporter here. Do you want to talk to her, or should I tell her to back off?"

Sarah thought about it for a moment. "It's fine, Officer. I'll go ahead and talk to her."

Officer Harold shrugged. "Alright, then." He turned away, reading his notebook and shaking his head as he walked back to his patrol car.

The reporter was a young woman in her mid-twenties with shoulder-length blond hair and a black suit coat and skirt. She talked to a few of the other witnesses before walking up to Sarah, followed by her cameraman.

"Hi there! I'm Jenny Goodman with Channel 3 news. Mind if I ask you a few questions?"

Sarah smiled. "Sure, go ahead."

Jenny turned to the cameraman, and he raised his camera and pointed it at Sarah. Sarah smiled, adjusting her long black ponytail and green T-shirt as Jenny turned on the microphone.

"Okay, can you start by telling us your name and where you're from?"

"Sarah Athraigh from Gorton, Illinois."

"Okay, Sarah." Jenny paused, looking down at her notes. "Sarah, people on the scene of this accident are saying that what they witnessed today was a miracle. Do you agree? Was this a miracle?"

Sarah smiled, shaking her head slightly in exasperation. "I really don't know, Jenny. It happened so fast, and I don't know how to explain it."

"Witnesses say the car stopped in mid-air, just short of hitting you. Is that what really happened?"

"I think so." She paused for a moment, thinking back to the accident. "I closed my eyes when it was about to hit me. When I opened my eyes, it had stopped short and dropped to the ground. It definitely stopped in mid-air."

"Did the car hit you?"

"No." She paused again, looking over at the crumpled front end of the car. "I just visualized it stopping, and it stopped."

"Wow. That's... wow." Jenny laughed. "Sorry, I've just never covered a story like this before. I wish we had video of the accident!"

Sarah shrugged. "It all happened so fast, I doubt anyone caught it on video."

"That's what everyone else said, too." She looked at her watch, then nodded at the cameraman. "Anyway, Sarah, I've got to go get this to my producer in time for the 6 o'clock news. Can I get your number in case we have any more questions?"

"Sure."

After the two women exchanged numbers, Jenny said a quick goodbye and rushed off to her news van with cameraman in tow. Sarah looked around the accident scene for a few more moments, then glanced down at her watch.

"Late again."

Sarah looked around to see if anyone else had any questions for her. A few people who had been staring at her turned away when she looked at them, but no one was making any motions to approach her. After another quick glance at her watch, she looked both ways and finished crossing the street. Once she reached the far side of the street, she looked back over her shoulder for a moment, examining the accident scene one last time. Then, she shook her head and kept walking.
Sample Chapter: Goodbye Miami

**Goodbye, Miami  
** _June 10, 2030 at 11:23_

Goodbye, Miami.

My name's Kass and I'm a survivor of Hurricane Florence. Needless to say, I just had the craziest weekend in my whole entire life.

On June 6, 2030, a Category 5 hurricane made landfall in southern Florida. Even with modern disaster protocols in place, it'll still take weeks to figure out just how many people were killed and how much property was destroyed. Early estimates suggest that at least 700 people died in the storm itself and many more died in the aftermath. Tens of thousands of others have been displaced by storm damage. A hundred times that number will ultimately be displaced permanently if state and federal officials can't find a way to deal with the flooding and power outages.

Unless Homeland Security has a fifty billion gallon Shop-Vac, there's nothing they can do.

The city of Miami is currently underwater. Of course, everyone on Fox News says that we're being alarmists. "It's only a few feet," they say. "It'll be cleaned up in no time," they say. "There are still some dry spots," they say.

But I've lived in Miami my whole life. I've also been reading about global warming since I was a little girl. Sea level keeps rising faster and faster. I've been saying for years now that this was going to happen. It was only a matter of time. There's no getting that water out of there permanently and no chance for a real recovery if most of the city is underwater.

And so, just like that, Miami has fallen, and I've become an American climate refugee.

They have a FEMA camp farther inland for the refugees with nowhere else to go. Luckily, though, I have a cousin in Illinois who's taking me in as her roommate. Illinois isn't really my cup of tea, but it beats going to a FEMA camp. And Alejandra es mi chica favorita, so there's that. I haven't seen her offline in years! I'm really looking forward to seeing her smiling face again. She's like the sister I never had.

Anyway, I'm getting really tired. It's been an exhausting weekend and this train is so much more comfortable than the bus was. I'll post more about my crazy weekend next time. In the meantime, all my thoughts and prayers go out to the other survivors and the only city I've ever called home.
