DESCENDANT
JEFFREY A. LEVIN
DESCENDANT
Copyright © 2017 Jeffrey A. Levin.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
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ISBN: 978-1-5320-1158-0 (sc)
ISBN: 978-1-5320-1159-7 (e)
Library of Congress Control Number: 2016921369
iUniverse rev. date: 05/05/2017
Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Section II (Through A Portal In Time)
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
SECTION III
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Section IV Fifteen Years Later (Life Without Maya) 2,393
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Section V Eight Years Later 2401
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Chapter 65
Chapter 66
Chapter 67
“Full of unique ideas and approaches, Descendant is a fun read for any age.”
“The book’s greatest strength is that the world the characters inhabit feels momentous.”
“Jeffrey A. Levin’s Descendant is fresh and unusual young adult fiction.”
-Clarion Review
PROLOGUE
May 27, 2378
The first thing that I recognized in myself as a child was that I seemed to have special talents. Well, let me clarify that. I would imagine myself shooting through vortices, wormholes, and portals; communicating with aliens from other planets; and, of course—now this is the kicker—appearing and reappearing in different places without actually going through the process of actual travel. Why not? This was my dream.
I remember reading a book about a genius who lived a long time ago in the primitive era. His name was Albert Einstein. My father, Benjamin, told me that we weren’t really related. But Einstein, who came from a country called Germany and then migrated to another country called the United States, now called the American Isles, on some level set the stage for the most famous, prolific scientific family in history: my family—the Eisensteins.
Actually, after a series of World Wars referred to somewhat anally as I, II, III, IV, V, VI VII, VIII, IX, X, and XI, the American Isles began to have other concerns. Like what? Well, plentiful food became a concern; nope, terrorism of different forms hasn’t gone away; and one more—what to do with the ETs that live under (yes, I did say under) my parents’ island home on Stanford Isle.
Why the American Isles? Well, that’s another tale. Since the late 2100s, the floods spilled over, affecting nearly all the coastal cities and inland areas for hundreds of miles. Of course, if you know your history, you know the polar ice caps began melting, causing mass hysteria throughout the world. Most countries had to realign themselves, rethink their situations, and, of course, develop solutions to some very difficult environmental issues. Yes, part of California did float off into the Pacific Ocean … as predicted.
Which brings up another question: Are all the continents of the planet going to come together? In other words, are we now experiencing a continental shift? The answer is, simply, yes. The drift theory is not only accepted today; it is simply a reality. For example, Europe is now 30 percent closer to our precious North American continent. Simply put, in around five or six hundred years, we are going to totally come together. So am I worried about that? Of course not! Why? Because we will probably destroy ourselves long before that. Does that involve me, personally? I’m the descendant, remember? I can see all your rabid, paranoid, blinking eyes upon me. You won’t let me go, will you? I’m sorry.
As a child, I grew up on another island called Malibu Isle. However, if you’re really going to get to know me, you need to know some of the other stuff that has happened over the last 387 years. I say 387 years because that is how long ago we can actually chart an Eisenstein making important contributions to our world. What does that mean? We kill people. Does that answer your question?
Is being an Eisenstein easy? Well, not really. However, the other nineteen mass murderers before me managed to do it. Yet there has been a price. You see, Eisensteins, over the years, have developed bigger, larger, and more efficient deadly weapons of mass destruction around the world. That’s right; my family is responsible for billions of deaths throughout the centuries; not cool, right? Or perhaps you do think it’s cool. Anyway, I guess that depends on your point of view. Let me lay out some of the cliché arguments. Here they are: survival of the fittest, kill or be killed, we’re the righteous ones and everyone else is the devil, or—the one that is the most realistic in our world—might is right!
Okay, then, who am I? Honestly, I’m the rightful heir to a family that is responsible for killing 6,652,565,062 people. Well, that’s the number that has been arrived at by the experts. And now there’s me. My beautiful mother, Monica, who has been a dutiful wife to my father, Benjamin, for twenty
years, wants something better for me. I guess I do too, right?
In case you’re not sure which planet I live on, it’s called Earth. It’s the third planet from the sun, and it has basically been around for 4.54 billion years. That’s a lot of years, isn’t it? Most of Earth’s history has been a series of disasters followed by spurts of real growth. One might say that the human species has represented real progress and is unique in the universe. The human order has produced philosophical, religious, and political leaders such as Plato, Socrates, Christ, Galileo, Copernicus, Da Vinci, Nostradamus, Tesla, and, of course, Einstein; ideas and concepts, such as the existence of the soul; governments, such as democracy, dictatorship, monarchy, plutocracy—shout-out to the ancient dude Bernie Sanders. How about scientific and artistic stuff like gravity, beauty, art, and, of course, creation, as well as Earth revolving around the sun. Actually, if you want to talk about real existence, we probably have to talk about multiverses, parallel universes, three-dimensional worlds, four-dimensional worlds, and even five-dimensional worlds. But, for now, I think that’s a little much. Let’s just talk about this universe and, I guess, my home, Earth.
May 27, 2401
Imagine this: you live in the year 1631. You pick up a novel containing a story that takes place in the year 2016. You no longer exist in a world of horse-drawn carriages. The Salem witch trials are still seventy-six years into the future. You’re living in a world of slavery. Chesapeake farmers have brought in 125,000 indentured slaves into the area. More significantly, there was very little technology: no Internet, no cars, no satellite radios, no sensors, no computers, no Fitbits, no glasses that can immediately identify unknown people, no nothing. You have just your hands and the brain God gave you. Why the analogy? The world I’m introducing you will be quite different from the one you live in now.
So what’s the world like in 2401? Yes, our technology has changed. Inventions like proton and electron smashers, flying cars, and now—thanks to Proto (my partner) and me—even the teleportation of living beings all exist. What about order—governing bodies? Did you know that our universe has had a world order for centuries, even during your existence in the year 2016? That’s right; it even existed back in 1631.
Has the universe become a much more dangerous place? Of course. The universe is full of alien cultures, governments, cunning demigods, and even brilliant entities that impact upon our world. Yet in the past they’ve been invisible to us, like menacing ghosts.
How did I find out? Well, it started with a hit on the head at Giza, followed by the opening of a time portal and then my relationship with the time traveler Ezekial, my friend. By the way, if you’re really interested, portals close to Earth open and close dozens of times a day; I’m going to take you through a few if you stay with me!
All these things are important. Do you want to know a secret? Here it is: it’s nearly impossible to keep a secret. Why? Because thoughts can be downloaded. Yes, you heard that right—downloaded and recorded. Scary thought, isn’t it?
You’ve heard of this thing called the cloud, right? Well, this isn’t your father’s cloud—not by a long shot. What is it? Calibration light observation ultraviolet light data. Private thoughts? Say bye-bye. Your thoughts are property of the American Isles government. Our wonderful government is now the proud owner of our ideas, thoughts, and emotions; they can all be recorded and saved. By whom? Good question! Anyone who’s resourceful enough to develop the technology: menacing demigods, leaders of planets, or unscrupulous entities (human or not). Do I have your attention now?
What about me? What are my connections to God, religion, time travelers, and more? Well, let’s just say that all these, on some level, have impacted me—especially time travelers. Why? Well, without Ezekial, this story probably wouldn’t exist. Yes, it’s the same Zeke that you know—the Jewish prophet that existed over 2,700 years ago. Zeke became my buddy, and for that, I’ll be eternally grateful.
One more thing… you can’t possibly know how important any of these things are unless you know one thing. Me, Michael Eisenstein—I’m the descendant, and that changes everything.
Regards,
Michael Eisenstein
CHAPTER 1
May 27, 2378
9:57:13 a.m.
My father used to say, “Truth is generally ridiculed; then it is opposed strongly. Eventually and ultimately it will be accepted.” I never forgot those words, nor have I forgotten my father. You see, Benjamin Eisenstein was a great scientist. I mean, how many fathers routinely talk to you about multiverses, or perhaps the unique characteristics of subatomic materials, or even how you can use teleportation to attack an alien spaceship on its way to Earth? Yes, you heard me right. You see, even as a sixteen-year-old, I understood how complex the world has become. But today is my birthday. It’s May 27, 2378, and I’m turning sixteen today.
You think sixteen is pretty young, right? Well, think again! Remember that most of the world’s knowledge can be reduced to the size of a molecule. That’s right—one! Perhaps it is the search for one master algorithm that keeps people like my father going. What is the master algorithm? Perhaps it is the one that can keep learning, producing better algorithms. Yes, all the way to infinity. That’s what my father wants. That’s what the government wants. One day that’s what they’ll ask me to do.
It won’t be “Michael, hit a home run!” “Michael, run a mile in under two minutes!” or, perhaps, “Michael, throw a winning touchdown!” That stuff’s for the unenlightened. It will be “Michael, can you blow up all the terrorists?” “Michael, can you stop the crazies in Asia from sending WMDs hurtling toward New York or Chicago?” or probably, even more likely, “Michael, can you send a light beam hurtling into the sky that will stop all extraterrestrial forces? Can do that? Can you, Michael?”
Am I okay with all that stuff? What do you think? Actually, I think that the Eisenstein legacy is not for me. Why? Can I tell you a little secret? Please keep it quiet … it’s a strange thought, I know. Here it is: maybe there’s a better way.
“C’mon, haven’t you ever felt that way before?” I say to my empty room. Well, it’s empty of human beings at least. I kind of prefer the company of my robot, Terby. She’s the one person—okay, truth be told, she’s a computer—who doesn’t have high expectations of me.
You still don’t understand, do you? It’s not like “Hey, Michael, can we go out caving? I love caves” or “Mikey, let’s throw the Frisbee around” or even “Mike-man, can we go out and just walk on the pier and skip stones?” (In case you’re interested, I’m probably one of the best stone skippers on the island.) No, it’s more like “Michael, can you figure out the most compelling theory on quantum physics and algorithms in the history of the world?” What can I say? Boring.
So, as in most capitalistic societies, money talks. In other words, I’m a smart dude, but what used to be the Internet is pretty much inside me! My brain? Well yes, it helps to be a child in a long line of geniuses. But even brilliant dudes and dudettes need information, and most of mine comes in the form of a chip—a chip that consists of 6.2 billion transistors capable of simulating 10 million neurons and 383 million neural connections. Actually, you can call them synapses if you like. They are placed in my head like little Rummikub tiles. Frightening, isn’t it?
So, once upon a time… Great! I’ve already started with bullshit. Trust me, dudes, Einstein was right; time is relative. So how about this: once upon a moment … You see, the moment exists, even if time doesn’t.
Anyway, in this moment I am playing with my robot, Terence, asking him goofy sex questions, when Terby, my nickname for her, actually breaks out with some news. You see, in my day, robots are about as common as the sun coming up in the morning. We have humanoids, animaloids, and even insectoids. Why insectoids? Well, in my world, it helps to know if your food is contaminated. The little manufactured creepy crawlies are equipped with sensors in their tentac
les that can tell you when something is going to make you sick. Creepy, huh?
Anyway, Terence isn’t very big, dispelling earlier notions of humongous, clumsy, robotic droids walking around masquerading as Frankensteinlike monsters. Actually, my robot Terence is shaped like a dog. “Really,” you say. Yes, of course, really. You can even pet him, and he will give you a simulated pant.
I hear an electronic beep. Terby triggers my full-wall screen, signaling the telenews channel to emerge. One of the many blonde-haired beautiful ladies materializes on screen.
I say beautiful ladies because, in actuality, they don’t really exist. Actually, they’re just fancy holograms. You see, that’s one thing that hasn’t changed in four centuries; men are still superficial, and they like to gape at women, capiche? Don’t ask me; I’m just a dumb kid, right?
The woman proceeds with her broadcast. “As many of you are aware, the American Isles military is mounting a presence in the Pacific Ocean off the Malibu Coast. President Cox authorized a defensive measure when it was discovered that a huge floating biosphere disk—perhaps more accurately an underwater city—exists under Malibu Isle.
“There is conjecture that the American Isles Navy has prematurely taken shots at the floating biosphere city. We have witnessed a mass exodus of flying saucers fleeing their underwater city, which the media has renamed Atlantis II. We caution all Americans not to overreact. News from the White House on the Island of Los Angeles will be coming up soon in a special report. President Cox is unavailable for comment.”
Whew, the world is going crazy this morning. Damn, what does Dad know about this? I muse. Why even bother to check my voicenet when my father is the man? Do you want to know a secret—a big secret? Are you ready? I’ve actually seen my dad talking to ETs. Well, maybe not actual ETs, but hologram simulations. Where? Right smack dab in my kitchen. Have you ever gotten up in the middle of the night and gone downstairs for a little snack? I got a peek of good ole Dad talking to some big-eyed ET by the name of Horace. My dad was just nodding his head. It kinda looked like Horace was in charge though… really?
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