Eden Box Set

by G. C. Julien

  The massive room we’re standing in reminds me a bit of the main hall. At the far end, straight ahead of me, a massive hallway continues into another opening, and right before this hallway are two glass elevators sitting on either side of the entryway.

  A woman wearing cotton blue pants and a plain blue top approaches the one on the left. Her appearance makes this place feel even more like a hospital. She’s so immaculately dressed and groomed, and her clothing reminds me of a nurse’s outfit. Atop her head sits a brown bun so cleanly tucked it looks like a ball. She glances our way, curious dark eyes lingering for several seconds.

  She reaches a hand beside her, where a young girl, no older than five years old, is standing. The two of them keep looking back at us without saying a word. It’s likely they haven’t seen anyone new for years. The woman, assumedly the mother, opens her mouth and says something, and the elevator’s glass doors open with a soft swoosh. They enter, almost backward by the way their necks are craned, and stare at us from behind the safety of the glass.

  “Mommy can I go?” asks a little girl near me.

  She points at the elevator and hops up and down as if seeing a roller coaster for the first time in her life. Her mother plants a firm hand on the little girl’s chest to keep her from running toward the elevator.

  “Later,” she says.

  The room begins to fill as the crowd squeezes its way through Elysium’s side doors.

  “Where’s your friend?” Abigail asks. “That Emily girl?”

  She seems genuinely concerned, which makes me feel bad for finding her annoying. I’d once thought Emily to be annoying, too. Maybe I’ve spent so much time in isolation these last few years that I have a hard time connecting with anyone.

  “I’m not sure,” I tell her, “but we’ll find her.”

  Her eyes scan the women around me, undoubtedly searching for Emily even though she has no idea what she looks like—at least, I don’t think she does.

  “Ladies.” Vrin’s voice carries across the hall as if being blasted out of a megaphone. “And gentlemen,” she adds softly, which I assume is because she’s now eyeing Zack, the only boy in Eden. She claps both hands together and smiles. “Welcome to Elysium. What you see here”—she expands her arms over her head and looks up at the ceiling—“is Elysium’s West Wing. It’s used mainly by flight operators and resource experts.”

  “Resource experts?” Abigail asks, leaning into me.

  I’m doing my best to pay attention to Vrin, so I don’t answer her.

  “While you’re welcome here any time, know that the door you’ve just entered will remain locked from here on out for your safety. We don’t want children running about near the aircraft.” She winks at two little girls in front of her and they giggle. “Next, I’ll be bringing you all through Elysium’s Hub. For those of you who aren’t familiar with the term, all it means is the center. Think of it as—” she pauses and glances toward Eve.

  “The main hall,” Eve says dully. It’s like she’s bored and has no interest in being here. I wonder if she’s already fallen into a dark depression again. I already know she’s gone cuckoo as my mom would say. I caught her talking to herself in the mirror. But I’ve never seen her like this—not in front of us, anyways. She seems defeated; it’s as if she’s coming to terms with the fact that Vrin is now the new leader.

  I expected her to be angry to the point of wanting revenge—not weak and vanquished. She hasn’t even put up a fight. Something’s up, and it isn’t good. When I finally get the chance to talk to Nola in private, I’m going to tell her all about Eve and how she’s lost her mind. An adult needs to be made aware of how dangerous she is.

  “Like your main hall,” Vrin repeats.

  The women seem to like her. They’re watching her every movement. A few of them keep looking at Eve for guidance, but since she isn’t giving any, they return their attention to Vrin. Hopefully, Eve snaps out of whatever it is she’s going through. A lot of women still follow her, and if she isn’t a leader to them, they’ll start following Vrin. It’s like she thinks it’s already happened and she’s accepted it. Well, miserably.

  “Ah, Nayma,” Vrin says as a new face enters the room.

  The woman seems to be around Vrin’s age, which, if I were to guess, is in her late thirties or early forties. They’re definitely older than Eve, which I think intimidates Eve a bit. This woman, Nayma, smiles a set of teeth so white you’d think she works in a dental office. Maybe there’s a dentist here. I sure hope so because Eden didn’t have one, and a lot of women complained about it. In fact, one woman died two years ago, and all everyone kept talking about was an “abscess,” whatever that means.

  I run my tongue along the back of teeth, feeling grime and what I assume is a lot of plaque buildup. Mom used to bring me to the dentist twice a year, even though we didn’t have insurance. She said my teeth were more important than I thought they were, and that they deserved to be as healthy as me.

  “Welcome,” Nayma says.

  Her skin, a lovely light brown color, makes her teeth look like little pieces of gum. I can’t tell whether her eyes are brown or green, so maybe they’re a bit of both. Hazel, my mom once explained to me. She’s wearing a pair of brown khaki pants and a beige shirt that has a dozen or so buttons at the front. It’s fancy, but not over the top. It was obviously custom-made here. From one of the pockets over her chest, she plucks out a pair of metallic blue-rimmed glasses and slides them over the bridge of her nose.

  “I’ll be registering all of you to Elysium,” she says.

  Someone in the back whispers, “Registering?”

  Nayma clears her throat and taps something on the metal frame of her glasses. Nothing happens, at least not on our end, but she’s now looking through her glasses rather than at us. She must be seeing something we aren’t. She taps the glasses again as if adjusting a setting.

  “Nayma’s our systems expert,” Vrin says. “She controls APHRODITE, Elysium’s Intelligent Control System.”

  Why’s she talking about a control system as if it were a person? And why’d they give it a name like that?

  Vrin then points at the corners of the room, at the elevators, and at the doors. “Everything in here is controlled by APHRODITE. Think of her as… central intelligence,” she says.

  Everyone around me stares as if watching a magician perform a trick. Their eyes scan the areas she pointed at, and they break out into whispers.

  Vrin smirks proudly, almost as if she’s the one who built APHRODITE. “She controls the temperature, the security system, the lighting. You’ll notice speakers built into the walls throughout all of Elysium. APHRODITE takes commands whenever spoken to.” She playfully points a finger at the crowd. “Telling her to change the temperature when you’re cold won’t do anything, though.”

  A little girl giggles as if that’s precisely what she was thinking.

  “There are strict voice recognition settings in place,” Vrin adds. “Only select people have access to make commands depending on your whereabouts in Elysium. You’ll each be given access to make commands inside your room and only your room.”

  Abigail nudges me so hard in the ribs I’m certain I’ll bruise later. It’s not easy to get mad at her, though; she’s grinning so wide I can see her pink gums.

  “If you could all form a line,” Vrin says, “Nayma here will have you registered with APHRODITE.”

  “What do you mean, registered?” asks one of the women.

  Nayma takes a step forward and pushes her glasses up the bridge of her nose. “Think of it as being included into APHRODITE’s core. In order to have access to make commands, you’ll need to be registered into her system. She’ll need your name, your appearance, and a sample of your voice.”

  “Our appearance?” someone else asks, her voice quivering.

  The crowd starts whispering again, obviously concerned about privacy. I don’t blame them; when President Price was in power, he basically stripped everyone of thei
r privacy. He made it legal for the government to record anyone anywhere at any time. He also made it legal to use evidence obtained this way against a person. So if someone said (inside the privacy of their own home) that they wanted to kill someone, the cops showed up within a few hours and arrested them.

  That’s why Mom was so scared of talking near electronics.

  So it makes sense that these women are scared. They don’t want to live like they used to—nervous of constantly being watched.

  Nayma smiles, and it’s comforting. She doesn’t seem like the kind of person who would deceive someone. There’s something very genuine about her, and every time she speaks, I want to listen to her.

  “I can assure you,” Nayma says, “that APHRODITE has only your best interests at heart. Well, in her M85 TU Operating System.” She almost starts laughing but instead tightens her lips when no one reacts. “APHRODITE is a tool. That’s it. There’s no secret organization running in the background of Elysium. APHRODITE’s physical appearance registration is both a safety feature and a facial recognition feature.”

  The women nod, including Abigail, who looks like she’s hypnotized.

  “Last month, we lost Thomas Avehnos, a little four-year-old boy,” Nayma continues. “Elysium is incredibly large. Larger than any building you’ve likely entered, I’m sure. It was only because of APHRODITE’s facial recognition system that we found him within a matter of minutes.”

  Now, most of the women seem convinced. Several of them pull their little girls closer. Who wouldn’t want a safety feature like that?

  Nayma pulls her arms behind her back, elevates her chin, and smiles crookedly. “So, who wants to go first?”

  CHAPTER 19 – EVE

  “Eve Malum,” I say, staring into Nayma’s unusual-looking eyes. It’s almost as if she’s wearing green contact lenses over a set of brown eyes or isn’t from this planet at all. Then, following the oral script we’ve been given, I continue. “Lock the door. Unlock the door. Turn off the lights. Turn on the lights.”

  It appears APHRODITE’s functionalities extend far beyond simple commands, such as unlocking doors or turning off lights. But Nayma explained to us that a basic voice sample is all APHRODITE requires in order to associate our voice with our name.

  Nayma gives me a brief nod, which must translate to Thank you. You’ve been registered, and I step out of the line. Then, without even looking at me, she reaches into her pocket and extracts a bead no larger than a fisheye and tosses it into the air. It lights up an aqua blue and hovers midair, unmoving.

  I still can’t wrap my head around this form of technology, but Nayma assured us that these beads, or marbles—something she called a Luminus Sphere—are incredibly advanced and that we should not be fearful of them. They’re programmed to lead us to our quarters—each and every one of us. I’m not certain how she does it, but upon registration, she assigns a room to an individual and connects a Luminus to that individual. In other words, this little flying ball knows where I’m intended to sleep and its sole purpose is to lead me there.

  Several other women in front of me are following their Luminus Spheres.

  “Clarissa McAdams,” says the next woman in line. She goes on to continue the script, but I walk away, not wanting to waste my time listening to every woman’s registration.

  I observe the light blue glow being emitted from a small line splitting my Luminus in half. It’s approximately half the size of a golf ball and floats in the air as if surrounded by magic. Its exterior is a glossy metallic white, and at the center of its upper half, right above the split line, is a small lens.

  Nayma explained that it had something to do with its technology being able to alter the vibrations around its proximity. In other words, its technology is so advanced that it can literally manipulate nearby atoms. I don’t pretend to understand it, though I must admit that I’m rather intrigued by it.

  I take a step forward and it moves away from me, but not too far.

  Is it looking at me?

  I wave a hand in front of the lens and it releases a small beeping sound as if responding to me. I smile, amused by this new gadget. I take another step forward, and it hovers backward, still watching me.

  “Well,” I finally say, “take me to my room.”

  Another beep comes out of the ball and it floats away from me as if being carried through the current of a river. I follow it, my steps rapid and my head held high. Several other women around me giggle as they wave their hands in front of their new toys.

  I wonder how long Nayma’s been working on these pieces of technology. Is she one of the Binaries? Vrin knew about the Binaries—she’s the one who told me to keep my eyes open for them. Surely, she found them before I had the chance to. It’s the only explanation.

  The Luminus leads me through the West Wing’s main entrance, which assumedly leads into the Hub. Or, as Vrin explained, the main hall. It will take some time for me to adjust to this new living space. Though I was hesitant at first, I can’t help but see an opportunity here.

  I crane my neck the moment I walk into the Hub. The ceiling, which is barely visible, surely reaches several hundred feet in height. In fact, there is no ceiling. Like Eden, it appears to be made of glass, allowing natural light to flood the entire hall.

  Reaching up to this glass ceiling are levels upon levels of floors, and on each one, several men and women can be seen roaming the halls through glass walls. Most of them wear the same clothing—blue pants and blue button-up shirts that cover their necks.

  I’d thought Eden to be clean—to be free of debris and germs—but as I stand here, I realize Eden was filthy. This place is immaculate. At the center of the Hub is a stone statue of a naked woman with wings wrapped around her body. Her left hand sticks out, palm facing up, and from it pours a clear stream of water. It lands in a pool around her feet, where two little girls, no older than three years old, are found giggling and slapping their hands in the water.

  Around this fountain are several Egyptian blue benches—so blue that I have a hard time looking away. I wonder what compelled them to select such a vibrant color. Perhaps it has something to do with the psychological effects of colors.

  On either side of these benches are gorgeous trees planted in gray stone pots. I can’t tell what they are, but their trunks appear to be made of several trunks intertwined around each other like braids. Their leaves, although mostly vivid green, have purple veins running through them. Are these some sort of hybrid plants? Are they experimenting with botany?

  I instantly catch a woman’s gaze. Her eyes, two brown dots on her youthful face, are fixated on me as if I’m a different species. Do I have something on my face? Does she recognize me from somewhere? How could she possibly recognize me? I’ve remained in Eden for the last six years.

  She leans into her friend, another woman who appears to be the same age as her, and whispers something into her ear. Now, the two of them are gazing at me in awe. I take a step forward, hesitating as my Luminus hovers several feet away from me, waiting to guide me to my new living quarters.

  Should I say something? Ask them what they’re staring at? I find it rather rude. Tempted to tell them to look elsewhere, I turn away and continue following my little guide. The last thing I need right now is to make a scene and to convince my women that I’m no longer fit to lead… if they don’t already believe that.

  The whispering continues as I turn my back to them, and it’s only when I reach one of the eight elevators in the Hub that a voice captures my attention.

  “Eve?”

  I pause.

  Maybe they’re speaking to another Eve. Surely, there’s more than one in all of Elysium.

  “Eve Malum?”

  * * * * * *

  “Eve Malum?”

  I glance back to find several filthy faces gazing toward me. Some are covered in ash, others, blood. It’s like nothing I’ve ever seen before, and it makes me sick to my stomach. My name is being repeated over and over again,
but not in an attempt to call out to me—rather, they’re repeating it as if it holds some magical power.

  “She knew about the attack,” someone says.

  “Yes, she did,” Vrin finally shouts.

  She’s standing by my side, which is something I need right now. All I can think of is Ophelia. I can’t believe what I’ve done. Everything feels so surreal… like a dream. And now, these women speak of me as if I’m some hero. As if I’m something more than an eighteen-year-old girl who murdered the president and her best friend.

  What am I?

  A monster?

  “She’s the reason you aren’t all dead,” Vrin continues. She climbs atop the hood of a police cruiser and sticks two firm hands over her belt. “Eve Malum went against orders and scheduled an attack to prevent a genocide.”

  I look up at her, ashamed. Why is she talking about me like that? Why’s she defending me? She saw what I did, and she’s acting like it never happened.

  “The world you know is over,” Vrin continues. “Shit’s about to get even worse. I’m not saying this to scare you. I’m trying to make you realize that it isn’t going to get better. You need to be prepared. You need to survive.”

  Panicked voices carry throughout the crowd of grieving women. I’ve never seen so much hurt in my life. Now that the electrical grid’s been fried, all I hear are voices—nothing more. Wailing, shouting, and even pleading. Everyone is hurting one way or another, whether physically or emotionally. Everyone’s lost someone they care about, and everyone’s terrified of what’s to come next.

  “My women will be doing everything they can to help out over the next few days, but for those of you who are ready to leave, I suggest you pack your things and follow Eve.”

  Follow me? My heart skips a beat. I knew this was coming, but I’m not prepared for it. I can’t possibly guide hundreds of women outside of the city without knowing where I’m going or how I’m going to survive.