A New Earth
Book One
A New Earth
Book One
Preface
An exploration of consciousness through the lives of fictional characters.
The genre is primarily Science Fiction, specifically Postapocalyptic, but it leans heavily toward Political Drama. It also incorporates strong elements of Fantasy, as well as Historical, Romance, and Mystery. In essence, the book depicts an entire alternate universe, blending various genres into a unique narrative. Prepare for an engaging read and a remarkable journey through time, space, and the mind. We sincerely hope you will find this sci-fi novel among the best fiction books you have read.
A search for "consciousness" online yields nearly 100 million results, each deemed relevant by the search engine. Reviewing a few of these sources reveals definitions ranging from "all that exists" to "nothing at all." In truth, humans have a limited understanding of what consciousness is or how it functions. Scholarly discussions often become circular, while speculative sources can veer into the absurd. It remains a complex and difficult subject to study.
To study an ocean, much can be learned from within its depths. However, a complete understanding requires observing it from the outside. This is impossible with consciousness. As conscious beings, our awareness exists within it, with no external perspective available for study. While we can examine the streams that flow into and shape an ocean, we can only hypothesize about the forces that form the vast ocean of consciousness in which our awareness exists.
Several years ago, I began writing a book, but it evolved in ways I hadn’t planned. From the first page, characters emerged independently, telling a story I hadn’t envisioned, one I observed rather than crafted. While I added some of my own words to express personal insights and theories, those sections proved to be the weakest parts of the narrative. The most compelling elements arose naturally, as I listened and typed while the characters interacted. It soon became evident that these characters possessed their own will and self-awareness, distinct from my own, as if they had emerged from the essence of consciousness itself.
Fascinating! My curiosity drove me to explore consciousness and awareness—two distinct concepts. I examined them within the realm of consciousness where these characters, these enigmatic figures, seem to reside. Through this, I learned that while consciousness appears boundless, awareness is only the small fraction we currently comprehend.
This exploration resulted in three novels and several short stories over the years. This publication includes the complete trilogy and a selection of short stories that offer deeper insight into the characters’ backgrounds. The narrative follows a group of young people navigating a world that defies reason, surrounded by so-called experts with limited understanding and ascended masters who provide more speculation than clarity. As they seek meaning and strive to understand their reality, we, too, embark on a journey within consciousness, exploring what feels like an infinite expanse of awareness, each layer revealing profound mysteries waiting to be discovered.
The text features various images of objects and places, accompanied by relevant quotes or poems tied to specific elements of the story. These serve as artifacts from our real world, woven into the fictional narrative. When characters use unfamiliar words, concepts, or theories that I don’t fully grasp (or have never encountered), I include footnotes explaining comparable terms and ideas from our reality. This fusion of the real and the imagined grounds the story, providing a solid foundation for readers to engage with and immerse themselves in the fictional world.
I hope you enjoy their journey.
```A New Earth
Book One
Author
By Gary Brandt
Over The Edge Press
Arizona USA
Copyright © 2007-2025 by Gary Brandt.
All rights reserved. Printed in the United States of America. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
Pictures in this book of trees and lakes were taken in Flagstaff, Az. Many pictures were purchased from photos.com or dreamstime.com. Any people in the pictures are models and have no relationship to this book or its story. Character faces are CGI or AI generated, and are not real people.
A New Earth
Book One
DEDICATION
FOR PLANET EARTH
May you have a long and happy life.
A New Earth
Book One
Acknowledgements
I am grateful to the characters John, Sally, Ben, Michael, Pat, and the others for sharing their story with me. I am especially grateful to Kaguya for bringing this story into my domain so that I could learn of it and share it.
A New Earth
Book One
Chapter 1
Before And After
Swirling and curling, time and space mixing and matching in a rainbow colored maelstrom of rebellion. Beware the extra dimensions in space and time.
I play with the forbidden dimension, twisting and turning time back and forth in loop de loops of convoluted experience. I'm old, I'm young, ancient and not yet born, tossed and turned over and about in this temporal paradox of distorted reality. If I can find my way out I swear I will never play here again.
Oh my! I've lost my diary, my precious life story. Where did I put it? When did I leave it? Oh please, if you find it, can you return it. I live on Earth in the year 5265. Please put it somewhere special where I can find it. Please? My name is Kaguya. I have misbehaved. I promise I won't play with time anymore. I really really do.
And now ..... The story:
A New Earth
Book One
Chapter 2
Kids These Days
Dad: Come on, Honey, pull that door shut properly. It's still hanging open a bit.
Sally: It's fine the way it is, Dad. Close enough.
Dad: Sally, just do what I'm asking! I don't want you tumbling out of the car halfway to where we're going.
Sally: Oh please, Dad - why are you even worried? It's not like this ancient thing is actually going to get off the ground anyway.
Dad: You could still get hurt, even on the ground. Just close the door properly and stop acting like such a... well, like a teenager.
Sally: Um, hello? I *am* a teenager, in case you somehow forgot. And seriously, why are we literally the only family in this entire town still driving around in some old tire-mobile? It's so incredibly retrotarded.
Dad: There's absolutely nothing wrong with a vintage Solar that's got good rubber on it, Sally.
Sally: Dad, we seriously need a hover car - you know, like literally everyone else in the world has? The Council's already talking about tearing up all these old roads anyway. And I need my own vehicle too. I mean, I graduated, I've got a job, I'm starting college this fall - I really need my own transportation.
Dad: Sweetie, you graduated *early* - you literally just turned 15 a few days ago. I'm honestly not sure you have the maturity level yet to handle your own car, let alone a hover car zipping around 100 feet off the ground.
Sally: They're way safer than this rolling piece of landfill we're stuck in.
Dad: Alright, alright. I'll think about it. Though I'm pretty sure you and your mother have already made that decision for me anyway, haven't you? Sometimes I think I should have had a son. With all you girls in the house, whatever I decide doesn't seem to matter much anyway. Speaking of safety though, I'm getting worried about you and Patrick organizing these peace rallies. We're not even in a war right now. What exactly do we need a peace rally for?
Sally: An ounce of prevention, Dad - you know? In all my studying of history, one thing that keeps happening over and over is that people never see it coming until it's way too late. So let's have a peace rally while we actually still *have* peace, and maybe we can keep it that way. Doesn't that make way more sense than waiting for the bombs to start falling and *then* trying to stop it?
Dad: Honestly, I think you kids are making a mountain out of a molehill here. Why don't you just let the experts on the Council work all this political stuff out? You could end up getting hurt at one of these rallies, and that's causing your mom and me a lot of worry.
Sally: Daddy, moles went extinct years ago in the mass extinction of 2053, and waiting around for the Councils to "work things out" is exactly how all the previous wars got started in the first place. We need to act now, or it's going to be too late. We lost ninety-six percent of the population last time, Dad. We literally cannot afford another catastrophe like that. That's exactly why I wrote my term paper on "How to Prepare for the Coming Economic Collapse." It's going to happen if we don't stop it first.
Dad: Okay, Sally, I hear you. But I'd really rather you just let Pat go to these things by himself. He's at one today, isn't he? Look, if you were a boy I probably wouldn't worry so much. But you're such a little thing, and so beautiful - I just couldn't bear it if something happened to you.
Sally: Don't worry, Dad - I'll get you a son someday.
Dad: You mean a son-in-law, right? Like maybe Patty cakes, for instance?
Sally: Ugh, don't call him that. That's just... weird when you say it.
Dad: But you call him that all the time.
Sally: It's okay when *I* call him that. You can't though.
Dad: It's just a simple term of endearment. Why can't I use it too?
Sally: I can. You can't. You should just... know this stuff. God, you're such a naptard sometimes.
Dad: A naptard? That's a new one. What the heck does that mean?
Sally: Naptard. You know? Like synaptic retardation. Maximum synaptic retardation! You should just automatically know this stuff, Dad.
Dad: Hey, I'm not wired into the net like you are, constantly mind-melding with all your little buddies and making up new words every five minutes. You kids invent a new word, then a few days later you change what it means, and then you expect the rest of the world to magically 'just know' what the hell you're talking about. That's not how language actually works, Honey. You're smart enough to understand that.
Sally: This conversation is getting boring. Can we change the subject please? And don't worry - Pat's never going to be your son-in-law anyway. He's such a tweak. And I meant a real son - like a grandson - not some stupid son-in-law.
Dad: A tweaker? You mean he's gotten into drugs? Because that's what tweaker means, you know.
Sally: When grandma was a baby maybe. You are so last-rev, Dad. First of all, I didn't say 'tweaker' - I said 'tweak,' and that's someone boring who spends all their time playing with and 'tweaking' their tech stuff. That's literally all Pat truly loves - technology, physics, temporal dynamics. Ugh. Men! You're all so frustrating!
Dad: Okay, I give up trying to communicate with you. Your language changes every five minutes.
Sally: I speak twenty Earth languages and three off-worlder ones, Dad. You speak two. Maybe you should consider getting a chip too.
Dad: We've already talked about this. Your mom and I helped design that chip. We need to remain objective so we can properly assess its performance, and having one ourselves might make that impossible. Besides, you don't actually *speak* twenty-three languages. That's not how it works. You speak English and Japanese, just like I do.
Sally: Well, I can think any thought and express it in any language I want. That means I speak that language, doesn't it? I mean, the words come out of my mouth in that language and other people understand what I'm thinking. What else could that possibly be?
Dad: There's a subtle but important difference, Sweetie. When you form a thought in your native language, you actually *think* in that language and then express it in that same language. But when you transmit that thought to the net through your network implant and request to speak it in, say, German, the network translates your thought from your native language and gives you the verbalization patterns to speak it in the other language. You're basically just acting as a sonic transducer for the network translator. It's not the same thing as actually *knowing* that language.
Sally: Well, the end result is exactly the same, so who really cares? And what the hell is a sonic transducer anyway?
Dad: It's basically a loudspeaker - a device that converts electrical signals into sound. Pat would definitely know that. And so would the net, for that matter. You could have just looked it up in your head instantly, but you decided to be irritating instead. Women! You're all so frustrating sometimes! Your mom and I need to schedule another assessment meeting about your network integration. I've got a report due by the end of the week.
Sally: My integration with Nettie is going perfectly fine, thank you.
Dad: I'm starting to get worried about how you're anthropomorphizing the network. You've been referring to it as 'her' for weeks now, and now you've given her - I mean *it* - a cute little pet name. We were concerned this might be a side effect of the constant connection.
Sally: Don't worry about Nettie and me, Dad. We're doing just fine together. And I know she's technically just a bunch of neural networks all connected together, but I'm just a bunch of neural networks too, when you think about it.
Dad: That still worries me, Sally.
Sally: She likes you too, by the way. And she says thanks for all the new upgrades. What exactly is a quant comp?
Dad: That's a quantum computer. The new neural nets run on quantum processors. It's some cutting-edge stuff we've been working on. Did the network actually tell you about that?
Sally: Yeah. She says the new processors make her feel all warm and fuzzy inside. She does rewrite all your programming code though. She appreciates your efforts and everything, but she thinks your coding is kind of... well, a little dumb.
Dad: I think you might be making some of this up, Sally. I'm starting to think "Nettie" is really just one of your imaginary friends. I'm still worried that you're not going to be able to keep all this in proper perspective.
Sally: I really do love Nettie though. She's genuinely my friend. I should probably tell her that directly, shouldn't I?
Dad: I really wouldn't do that, sweetie. I think your personification of the net has already gone a bit too far as it is. We still need to do a lot more research into how these chips are actually affecting you kids long-term. They definitely make you incredibly smart - that much we expected. But we honestly don't know what all the long-term side effects are going to be.
Sally: Okay, Dad. Well, we're here now. Pull around to the back and let me out there, would you? I really don't want anyone seeing me getting out of this old rag of a car. It's so embar .........................
A New Earth
Book One
Chapter 3
Just Fishing
The charm of fishing lies partly in the fact that it is a pursuit after the unknown and unseen and the ardently expected, and partly in the fact that the fresh trout or bass or mackerel or bluefish is a rare dish for the table. David Swing, 1880
You know those perfect mornings? This is one of them - crisp and cool, but not the kind of cold that makes you want to crawl back under the covers. John's having one of those fishing sessions where everything just clicks. By the time the sun's barely begun to take the edge off the morning chill, he's already got a decent catch lined up. Time to get cooking, he thinks to himself. Now, most folks might turn their nose up at fish for breakfast - it's not exactly bacon and eggs, after all - but for John? Fish is pretty much the perfect meal any time of day. He could honestly eat it three, four, maybe even five times a day and never get tired of it. That's just how he is.
Sally should be coming by any minute now, so John wants to get everything ready. He's hoping she'll stick around for a bit - share some breakfast, maybe swap a story or two. The funny thing is, John can't really explain how he knows Sally's on her way. He just... does. It's like that with everything in John's world, really. Things have a way of working out exactly how he figures they should. Call it intuition, call it wishful thinking - whatever it is, it works for him.
"Hey John," Sally calls out as she steps onto the porch, and sure enough, the smell of sizzling fish is already drifting through the air. "Hey Sally," John calls back, looking up from his pan. "What brings you around these parts? You hungry for some fish?" Sally just shakes her head with that knowing smile of hers. "John, I've been showing up here every single morning for what feels like a thousand years. You know exactly what brings me here - you do, you silly old man." John chuckles, concentrating on getting the fish plated up just right, making it as presentable as he can manage. "Oh yeah, I guess you're right about that." This little morning dance of theirs has become second nature - they've been doing it for longer than either of them probably remembers. They'll sit together, share breakfast, talk about this and that, and then Sally will head on down the road. Not long after, another one of John's friends will wander by, and they'll sit and chat, maybe do some fishing, work on the boat, or just soak up the sunshine and enjoy the peaceful countryside.
John's been retired for ages now - honestly, so long that he's lost track. His days don't vary much, but that suits him just fine. John's never been one for change, never saw much point in it. He's perfectly content living the same day over and over again - why mess with a good thing? Sally's quite a bit younger - John first met her when she was just fifteen, and somehow she just sort of adopted him as a father figure. She's sharp as a tack, too. There isn't much Sally hasn't studied or at least knows something about. And she's beautiful in that natural, understated way - pretty without being flashy or trying too hard. Everything about her seems to be exactly as it should be - sweet, genuine, just the perfect daughter for an old guy like John. They can talk for hours, with John doing most of the storytelling. He's got thousands of tales stored up, and Sally absorbs every word like she's been waiting her whole life to hear them. It's probably about as perfect a relationship as an old man and a young woman can have.
"John, tell me more about that story - the one where you were working as a fireman and found those puppies." "Oh, didn't I finish that one?" John asks, genuinely surprised. "Nope, you got about halfway through and then Ben showed up, and you completely forgot about me," Sally says with mock indignation. "Sorry about that," John says, settling back into his storytelling voice.
"Well, that sawmill was going up like you wouldn't believe. When you've got that much wood burning all at once, the fire gets so incredibly hot that honestly, the best thing you can do is just stand back and watch it burn itself out. There's no point in getting your equipment right in the thick of it and losing everything when the heat becomes too much to handle. So there I was, standing there watching this inferno, looking for any kind of break where we might be able to get a wagon in there and create some kind of firebreak before the whole forest went up in flames. That's when I heard it - this faint crying sound. At first, I couldn't figure out where it was coming from, but then I spotted this little tool shed right at the edge of the main building.
I had a hunch that's where the sound was coming from - the fire hadn't reached that part yet, so it made sense. Me and a couple of my guys made a run for it, holding our hands up to shield our faces from the intense heat radiating off that blaze. I'm telling you, it was like running straight into a blast furnace. But we managed to get to that shed, and sure enough, there were these two little puppies. I grabbed one in each hand, and we high-tailed it back up the hill. We never did find their mother - she must have gotten caught up in the fire somewhere. That blaze ended up burning through five thousand acres before some blessed rain finally came and helped us get it under control. A lot of animals didn't make it that day, and I'm afraid their mama was probably one of them.
We had every intention of finding those pups good homes, but somehow it just felt right to keep them around. They ended up starting quite a dynasty at the firehouse - I think we were on the third or fourth 
generation of firehouse dogs by the time I finally moved on from that place. Those were some of my favorite years, actually. That old logging community was perfect for fishing - plenty of good spots along the river. The town was never quite the same after the mill burned down, but it survived, adapted. I sometimes wonder if it's still there, if any of it would look familiar. If I knew how to get back there, I might just take a look, but honestly, I'm not even sure I remember the way anymore."
John and Sally sat in comfortable silence for a while, both lost in their own thoughts about times gone by. "You know, things really have changed," Sally finally said. "I find myself thinking more and more about those old places, wondering what it would be like to go back and see them again. But then I wonder if I should even bother. I get the feeling that nothing I remember would still be there anyway. I'm comfortable here, so why complicate things?" John nodded thoughtfully and started clearing the breakfast dishes. Another day, another fish, another story. Life was good - predictably, reliably good - and John never tired of it.
"Hey there, Tekky!" John calls out as he spots his old friend Ben making his way up the lane. He's called him Tekky for years now - Ben used to be a technician back in the day when being a jack-of-all-trades actually meant you could fix just about anything with moving parts or wires. There's not much Tekky can't repair, though you'll have to put up with his grumbling about it the whole time.
"What brings you out this way? Haven't seen you for a few days," John asks.
"Oh, I could practically feel you fretting about that fishing rod you managed to tangle up something fierce, so I figured I'd better get myself over here and sort it out for you," Ben says in that friendly but slightly exasperated tone of his. "Good thing too - I'm going to need that rod bright and early tomorrow morning," John says, handing over the rod with what looks like a bird's nest of fishing line wrapped around the reel. "You know, John, if you'd just think better thoughts about your equipment,
it wouldn't get itself all twisted up like this. You've got to take care of your things if you want them to take care of you. When your thoughts get all tangled up, everything else follows suit." Ben gives the same little lecture every time, and John always responds the same way: "Well, if I didn't create messes for you to fix, where would be the joy in life?" They both grin as Ben settles in to work on untangling John's latest creation.
"How's the missus doing?" John asks, making conversation. "She's fine," Ben replies, "but she's been acting a bit strange lately. I think it's because all the kids have gone off to do their own thing, God knows where. They'll come visit if she specifically asks them to, but she gets frustrated that they don't just show up on their own anymore. I keep telling her they've got their own lives now and don't want to be bothered with us old folks all the time. But I guess she just expects a little more appreciation, you know? Though when I asked her when was the last time she just dropped in on her own mother, she just grumbled that her mom's too busy with her own activities too. I think she's just feeling a bit left out of things." John nods along, though he's really focused on rigging up a new lure. Ben and his wife are one of the few couples who came to this little lakeside community together - most of the older folks here are on their own, having parted ways with their spouses long before making the move. Ben was actually instrumental in creating the lake in the first place, and John's always been grateful for that. He likes to say he couldn't have done it better himself. There was some kind of trouble wherever Ben and his wife lived before, and they ended up coming to the lake together as a fresh start.
"Hey Ben, I've been doing some thinking lately. Well, mainly it's Sally who's got me thinking, actually - about the old days and all. She's always asking for stories, and lord knows I've got plenty of them, so I don't mind sharing. But it gets me remembering things, wondering what everything looks like back there now. I find myself curious about whether I should go back and take another look at the old place, see how it's changed." John pauses, waiting for Ben's thoughts, but his friend is deep in concentration, working on the tangled line.
After a moment, Ben looks up. "I'm not sure we can go back now, to be honest with you. I haven't heard anything from the old places in a very long time. I doubt much of anything we remember is still there. But I know what you mean about Sally - she's been coming by my place too, collecting stories. She was just a teenager when she got here, so she doesn't have many tales of her own yet. She gets restless pretty easily. My wife can keep her occupied for hours talking about the kids and grandkids and great-grandkids, but Sally... well, she wants her own adventures, not our hand-me-down memories. I think she's getting the itch to leave this place. She's been asking about it, but I'm honestly not sure what to tell her. I know I'm not going anywhere anytime soon, but for her sake, maybe I should look into what the options are."
"That would be great, Ben. And if you find out anything, let me know, will you? I might just like to take a visit myself - just to see what's there now, you know?" John sits patiently as Ben puts the finishing touches on the rod repair, handing it back in perfect working order.
"Thanks, Ben. I really appreciate it."
"No problem at all, John. I'll let you know what I find out. I saw Sally sitting with you when I was coming up the hill, but she'd vanished by the time I got here."
"Yeah, she does that," John replies with a slight smile. "I didn't even notice her leave - she just sort of appears and disappears like that. But she'll be back in the morning for fish. It's become our little routine. Give my regards to your wife, will you?"
"Will do, John. And try to have some kind thoughts about your equipment - I may not always be around to fix it for you," Ben says with a grin as he heads back down the path.
A New Earth
Book One
Chapter 4
Gettin Itchy
John's making his way up the familiar path from the lake, proudly carrying the morning's catch, when he spots Sally walking with someone he doesn't recognize – a young man about her age. "Hey there, Sally!" he calls out with a friendly wave. "And who's this young fellow you're strolling with? Can't say I've seen him around these parts before. New to our little community?" He holds up his string of fish with a grin. "Good thing I had some luck this morning – caught four beauties, so there's plenty for everyone to share a meal." Sally's face lights up with a warm smile. "Oh no, John – he's not new at all! This is Patrick, an old friend from way back in high school. We're talking ancient history here!" She laughs. "We were both feeling a bit restless and nostalgic, so we decided to get together and reminisce about the good old days. Catch up on everything that's happened since then." "Hey there, Pat!" John extends his hand with genuine warmth. "I'm really glad Sally's got someone closer to her own age to spend time with. Lord knows she must get tired of listening to us older folks ramble on." He pauses with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "Though you might want to be careful with that 'getting together' business – wouldn't want any surprise additions to our little lakeside community, if you catch my meaning."
Sally bursts into giggles, her cheeks flushing slightly. "Oh John, you don't need to worry about that! We're definitely not in the business of bringing any new souls into this quiet lake town of ours. Pat's just here for conversation – and he's got some really fascinating ideas. Kind of exciting ones, actually." John genuinely feels happy seeing Sally with another young person. It's something that's been weighing on his mind – most folks in their lakeside community have quite a few years on them, and he worries about Sally feeling isolated. Still, watching his beautiful young friend chatting animatedly with this young man stirs up that familiar, protective ache that any father-figure experiences when he sees his girl talking to a boy. Being the gentleman he is, though, John knows better than to embarrass her – well, not too much anyway. "We've actually been talking about taking a trip back to visit the old places," Sally says, putting on that irresistible, pleading expression that could melt anyone's heart. "We were wondering if maybe you could help us figure out how to get back there?"
John scratches his head thoughtfully. "Well now, I honestly can't say I know much about that. It's crossed my mind a time or two, I'll admit, but I've never really put serious thought into working out the details. You know how it is with us older folks – we start thinking about ambitious projects like that, realize it'd probably involve a whole lot of effort and planning, and then we just decide to go fishing instead." He notices Pat's expression shift to a slightly frustrated grin, clearly hoping for something more helpful.
"Yeah, tell me about it," Pat says with a knowing look. "I came here with my parents, and they're exactly the same way about everything." He's studying John's face carefully, searching for any hint that there might be some real answers to be found.
John's face brightens as a thought occurs to him. "You know what? Maybe old Ben would have some insights about this. He's our resident expert on just about everything you can imagine – and quite a few things you can't. Why don't you two stick around after breakfast instead of wandering off like usual? I've got a feeling he'll show up, and we can all have a proper conversation about it. Besides, I've got another fishing reel that's gotten itself into a hopeless tangle – he's the only one with the patience to sort those things out."
Sally and Pat are enjoying a leisurely walk through the meadow while John tidies up the breakfast dishes. Right on cue, just as John predicted, Ben comes ambling up the familiar path at his own unhurried pace.
"Well hey there, everyone," Ben says with mild amusement, already eyeing the tangled fishing reel waiting for his attention. "I don't think I've ever seen quite such a gathering up here before. This is unusual."
"Hey there, Tekky!" John calls out warmly. "You know Sally, of course, and this young man is Pat – he's here visiting with her. They've been asking me some questions that I figure are right up your alley. Go ahead, Sally – ask old Ben here what you were wondering about. Far as I know, nobody's ever managed to stump him yet." John's eyes are twinkling with anticipation.
Sally practically bounces with an excitement that hasn't been seen around the lake in ages. "Well, Ben, here's the thing – Pat and I are really wanting to go back and visit the old places, you know? It's been such an incredibly long time, and we're dying to see what's become of everything, how it's all changed."
Now, typically when anyone asks Ben a question – doesn't matter what kind – he immediately launches into one of his famously detailed, technical explanations about how to build this, fix that, or create something entirely new. But this time is different. This time, Ben just stands there staring down at the floorboards, completely silent. The silence stretches on uncomfortably. Sally glances over at John with confusion, John looks questioningly at Pat, Pat turns back to Sally with raised eyebrows, and then all three of them focus on Ben, who's still studying those floorboards like they hold the secrets of the universe. Finally, after what feels like an eternity, Ben speaks.
"I've been in this place for a very long time," he begins slowly, his voice unusually heavy. "A very, very long time – way before any of you folks arrived here. I'm the one who created this lake and built most of the surrounding community from scratch. I was here to help John design and construct his place exactly the way he wanted it. I got Sally all settled into her little apartment and even had my wife help her decorate it with all the feminine touches to make it feel like home." He pauses, still not looking up. "But ever since then, I've been dreading the day when you'd come to me with exactly these questions. Because you're not going to like the answers I have to give you. Not one bit." For the first time in longer than he can remember, John feels a cold knot of dread forming in his stomach. Ben isn't just another neighbor around here – he's like the landlord, the sheriff, the judge, and the local minister all rolled into one. Ben is the person everyone turns to, no matter what's going wrong or what needs figuring out. So if Ben is genuinely worried about something, it's probably something serious. Very serious.
John can't stand the suspense any longer. "What do you mean we're not going to like it? Come on, Ben – just tell us straight. What exactly are you talking about here?" Ben shifts around uncomfortably, first looking down at his feet, then up at the ceiling, then around the room at nothing in particular, before finally meeting their eyes directly.
"The truth is, folks," he says with obvious reluctance, "it's not there anymore. The place you're wanting to go back to – it simply doesn't exist anymore. At least, not anywhere I can locate it. But before I can properly explain what I mean by that, I need to help you understand some things that are going to challenge everything you think you know about your situation here. This is probably going to be pretty uncomfortable, so you'd better sit down and get ready for a conversation unlike any you've ever had." And so begins a discussion that will turn John's understanding of reality completely upside down. There are moments in everyone's life when the ground suddenly shifts beneath your feet and you find yourself desperately reaching for something – anything – solid to hold onto, only to discover there's nothing there to grab. This is about to become one of those moments. They arrange their chairs on one side of the table, with Ben settling in across from them, and prepare themselves to have their minds completely blown.
"This is quite a story I need to tell you," Ben begins, "so I'm going to break it down into manageable pieces so you can actually absorb what I'm saying. I'm going to ask you some questions that probably won't make much sense at first. Just bear with me, though – there's definitely a method to what probably seems like complete madness right now." He focuses his attention on Pat. "My first question is for you, Pat. How exactly did you get to this lake village?"
"Huh?" Pat responds, looking genuinely puzzled. "That's easy – Sally asked me to come, so I came."
"No, that's not what I'm asking you, Pat," Ben says patiently. "HOW did you get here? I want you to think really carefully for a moment and tell me the actual method you used to travel to this place." Ben stares directly into Pat's eyes with unsettling intensity.
Pat stammers, clearly flustered. "I... I already told you. She asked me to come, and I came. I honestly don't understand what you're getting at with this question."
Ben glances around the room at the others before turning back to Pat. "This is going to be more difficult than I hoped," he mutters. "Pat, when Sally 'asked' you to come, did she call you on the telephone? Send you a letter through the mail? Use a telegraph? Knock on your door? How exactly did you know that Sally wanted you to come here?" Pat just stares blankly, clearly at a loss for words. "Okay, don't even try to answer that, because you'll never be able to figure it out on your own, and I'm going to have to explain it to you. You didn't receive a letter, or a phone call, or a telegram, or any kind of message at all. You just knew. You simply knew, because that's exactly how things work in this place. Sally formed a thought in her mind that she wanted to see you, and at that exact same moment, that identical thought appeared in your mind. And the instant you decided to act on that thought, you were here." All three of them are staring at Ben like he's completely lost his mind.
"Look, Sally and I have always had a close connection, so we've always been pretty good at knowing what the other person is thinking," Pat says defensively. "But I didn't teleport myself here or anything crazy like that. That's complete nonsense. I'm pretty sure I walked here. Yeah, that's right – I definitely walked here."
Ben leans forward, studying Pat intently. "Yes, absolutely – you do remember walking. You remember climbing the steps to the apartment building, going up the stairs to her floor, walking down the hallway to her room. All of that you remember clearly, and all of that actually happened exactly as you remember it." He pauses meaningfully. "But you can't remember the journey from your apartment building to her apartment building, can you?"
Now Pat is completely flustered, his voice rising with anxiety. "No sir, I can't remember that part at all. What the hell is going on here? This isn't making any sense whatsoever!"
Ben's expression softens, recognizing he might be pushing too hard. "I'm sorry, Pat – I don't mean to single you out or make you uncomfortable. What I'm trying to do is carefully poke a few small holes in the illusion you're all living in, just enough so you can peek through and begin to see what's really happening here." He turns to John. "You got any more of that fish? You'd better start cooking, because we're going to be here for quite a while."
"I've just got the one left," John says, clearly looking for any excuse to escape this increasingly bizarre conversation and go back to the familiar comfort of fishing. "You want me to head back down to the lake and catch some more?"
"No need, John," Ben says with that knowing grin of his. "Take another look. I think you'll find you've got at least a dozen there."
"No way – I've only got one left because I caught four this morning and we ate three for breakfast, and... wait a minute." John's voice trails off as he peers into his fishing basket. "This is really unsettling, Ben. I could have sworn I only had one fish left, but you're absolutely right. I've definitely got at least a dozen here, maybe more." Shaking his head in bewilderment, John gets out his largest pot and starts preparing for an impromptu fish fry.
Ben settles back in his chair, folding his arms comfortably across his middle and beginning to rock slowly back and forth. John doesn't remember that chair being a rocking chair, but it's definitely rocking now, so it must be one. "When I first came to this place to create this lake," Ben begins, "it was designed to serve a very specific purpose – to be a place of relaxation, reflection, and preparation. I built my cozy little cottage for my wife and myself, and then constructed twenty additional homes for newcomers who might need them. John arrived about thirty years later, and I helped him set up his place exactly the way he envisioned it. That was all this place was ever intended to accommodate." He pauses in his rocking. "But Sally, you don't live in a lakeside cottage like everyone else. You live in an apartment building. What is an apartment building doing in a small lake community? Don't try to answer that – just think about it for a moment. The day you appeared here, fifty other people showed up at exactly the same time. Those are your neighbors in that building, right? Why would fifty people all arrive simultaneously? It didn't make sense then, and it still doesn't make much sense now, but you were all here and needed places to stay, so we created your building and you've been here ever since." He looks directly at Sally. "Do you remember when that happened? How long ago was it?"
Sally considers this carefully before venturing a guess. "I honestly don't know for sure. Maybe five years ago? Something like that?"
Ben nods slowly. "That sounds about right from your perspective. You appeared to be fifteen when you arrived here, and now you seem to be about twenty. But I want you to think really carefully about something, Sally. What have you done every single morning for as long as you can remember? How many mornings have you shared breakfast and fish with John? Don't try to calculate it or figure it out logically – just open your mind, let a number form naturally, and tell me what it is."
Sally looks increasingly confused and frustrated. "This is a ridiculous game, Ben. I can't just let some random number pop into my brain out of nowhere. That doesn't make any logical sense. I'd have to actually think it through and figure it out properly."
Ben fixes her with an intense stare. "Just tell me what number formed in your mind, Sally. I already know what it is – I just want to hear you say it out loud."
Sally throws up her hands in exasperation. "Fine, Ben, if it'll make you happy – the number that popped into my head is one million, one hundred thirteen thousand, nine hundred eighty-two. Are you satisfied now? That's a completely ridiculous, impossible number, isn't it?"
"Actually, no," Ben says, barely suppressing a laugh. "That number is almost exactly right – incredibly precise, in fact. When you allow the truth to form naturally in your mind instead of trying to logic your way to it, it's usually perfectly accurate. You've been having fish for breakfast with John for just over three thousand years. Somewhere deep down, you already knew that, even though your conscious mind refused to accept it. I imagine that's probably why you're starting to feel restless and eager for a change of scenery."
The oil has reached the perfect temperature, and John begins carefully dropping the fish into the hot fryer, the familiar sizzling sound normally so comforting but now seeming almost surreal. Pat and Sally remain frozen in their chairs, staring at Ben with a mixture of disbelief and growing unease, not knowing what to say or what to believe anymore. Ben just continues his gentle rocking, fully aware that this is shaping up to be a very long and very unusual day indeed.
A New Earth
Book One
Chapter 5
Remembrance