Reconception: The Fall
Page 13
They hoped that homo superior would be a better kind of human, and that if they could get their seeds back far enough into the past, their superbabies would grow up to change the course of history. They themselves might disappear, but that wouldn’t matter. Not when the stakes were so high.
“Actually,” Jersey explained, “If my theories are correct, and they must be since I have already sent something back in time, then you will always exist within the Logos, even if you cease to exist on this plane.”
“You’re over my head, Jersey,” Evie moaned. “Let’s just do it, and hope for the best.”
“That’s exactly what the Logos is about,” Jersey instructed as he finished making adjustments to the machine. “Because the ideal always exists, it draws us, and we are capable of hoping for it, even striving for it.”
“Are we ready?” Garret asked as he removed the pod from its container.
Jersey looked up for a moment. “Just about.”
East USA Habitat: 2128
They were pounding on the door with their rifle butts. “Open up in there!”
Evie picked up the pod and slipped it into the chamber of Jersey’s time machine. “Hurry,” she urged. “Hurry, Jersey!”
Slamming the door of the chamber, she stood back as Garret pulled the handle down and Jersey moved his hand toward the switch. Time seemed to have slowed down. Garret reached for her and she for him. Their fingers touched, the switch was engaged, and the door burst open.
Outside of Time and Space
As the pod bloomed into the Logos, it disappeared from their time, and the machine gun bullets never reached them. At that moment, the world they had lived in ceased to exist. Jersey had been right about that. But he hadn’t been right about all of it. If he’d looked a little more closely at the quartz crystal embedded in his floor, he’d have seen that where it had left his lab in 2128 as a cracked specimen with many flaws, it arrived in the floor in perfect condition.
As the spores traveled through the Logos, they were changed, made perfect by the very nature of this domain. Thus when they landed on earth, they were no longer homo superior, but something far greater—the seeds of a human race that has been illuminated and perfected by the ultimate.
And while things might be imperfect on earth, everything that has known the ideal even for a moment is forever drawn to it. That’s why good must always triumph over evil.
EPILOGUE
Stratosphere: 1973
High above the clouds, in that luminous place where the atmosphere is very thin, a golden glow limned the edge of the world. There, where the last wisps of air touched the nothingness of space, an event occurred which would deeply affect all life on the planet below.
It burst into being, interrupting the silence with sudden noise as it hit the air and began to burn. Flames exploded all around it, momentarily outshining even the rising sun. It was not a meteor. It was not a spaceship.
From earth, it looked like a shooting star. It had its moment and was gone, leaving only tracers in the eyes. But if the eyes that watched its descent were stronger, or if they were closer, they would have seen the fire go out and the object that remained crack open, releasing its cargo into the wind.
The heavy, dark casing fell away, swallowed up by the clouds below. Left behind were a million tiny spores, each dancing an individual dance as it drifted in concert with its fellows, carried along by the air. Spores! Each a fuzzy little umbrella slowly falling toward the earth with its burden of life.
The winds and currents above the earth could not be predicted and those who had sent the spores had not even tried. The probability was great that the seeds would find fertile ground upon landing. It was against all odds that they would come to rest not in the plains, mountains, or farmlands of the world, but smack dab in the center of New York City. Had they made planetfall in the middle of the ocean their chances of taking root would have been greater.
As it was, they drifted useless down the concrete corridors, lodging in the cracks, weighted down by dust and dirt caught in the fine hairs of their umbrellas. Their numbers quickly dwindled as they were blown through the city. They began a million strong and were decimated thousands at a time as they sought to find a stronghold in the stony surface. Most took root in an open pit that would soon be buried under the massive weight of a skyscraper. One, only one, caught on a vagrant tendril of the wind, was lifted out of the city, over the concrete canyons and away.
It rode the wind, a tiny mote lost in the vastness of the atmosphere, completely at the mercy of the air. It fell toward the East River and was caught in a whirlpool over La Guardia Airport. It was shunted up to cloud level over Great Neck and dropped helplessly over Oyster Bay. It touched the water of the Long Island Sound near Huntington, but a gust of wind lifted it up to new heights and dropped it once more a little further east.
Over Stony Brook it began its final descent, twisting around the walls of the university and dropping over the shingled roofs of the suburban development below. An old elm tree almost caught it in its branches, but it escaped and moved on. Down it floated and down. After its long journey, seed finally touched earth. The touch became a kiss, the kiss an embrace, and they were one.
THE BEGINNING
DID YOU ENJOY
RECONCEPTION:
BOOK I
THE FALL?
READ:
RECONCEPTION
BOOK II
THE HEALER
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