Beyond New Eden

By H. S. Stone

Eve 142 has lived her entire life in the domed city of New Eden, home to the only surviving humans after the War. Like all of the inhabitants of New Eden, Eve 142 is a clone. Together with the other clones, dubbed the Adams and the Eves, she leads a safe, predictable existence. However, Eve's life changes when she causes a tragic accident to befall one of the Adams. As retribution, she and her counterpart, Adam 142, are banished from New Eden.

At first, Eve 142 considers their punishment a death sentence because she grew up believing the world outside the dome was uninhabitable. She is wrong. Forced to live in the Wastelands, Eve and Adam discover many new truths about the outside world and, more importantly, the truths about themselves.

• Language: English
• Publisher: H. S. Stone
• Release date: Mar 12, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301646623

H. S. Stone

Even before he could read, H.S. Stone wanted to write a book. Fascinated by the stories that seemed to leap from his kindergarten teacher's books, he went home and wrote his own book, with illustrations and bound by staples. Of course, since he didn't know how to read or write yet, the book was full of gibberish. Undaunted, H.S. eventually mastered the ABC's and continued to write throughout his grade school years, adolescence, and into adulthood. His publications include novels aimed at Young Adult and Middle Grade readers as well as several short stories. He currently lives with his family in the San Francisco Bay Area.

Book preview

Part One:

NEW EDEN

Chapter 1

Having never been in direct sunlight before, my first thought upon entering the greenhouse was whether its artificial lights felt the same as the real thing. The heat from rows of electric lamps overhead lapped my exposed skin in waves of warmth, and I imagined that was how the sun really felt.

I had seen pictures of the sun before, of course, and I knew the astronomical facts about the star that the Earth orbited, but I had never seen the glowing yellow orb with my own eyes. None of us had.

The pictures I’d seen were taken before The War. The War, which obliterated the planet and left it uninhabitable except for the domed city named New Eden where I was born and lived my entire life. The War, which wiped out all of mankind except for the hundred and fifty inhabitants of New Eden. The War, which defined the most significant milestone in human history. There was the time before The War and the time after it.

Once my eyes adjusted to the brightness, I saw my destination. I walked toward an apple tree, one of three in the greenhouse. A woman in her mid-twenties inspected the tree’s bark with a handheld instrument, her back turned towards me. The woman was a few years older than me, but she shared the same build, the same amber hair, and, although I couldn’t see them at the moment, the same light brown eyes as I had. If not for the age difference, the people before The War would have thought we were twins.

Hello, One Thirty-Five, I called out.

The older woman turned around, put her instrument away, and smiled. Hi, One Forty-Two. One Forty-Two was what most of the citizens of New Eden called me, short for Eve 142. I didn’t hear you. You’re early.

I finished classes early today. I returned her smile in a way that I believed resembled hers.

Eve 135 and I weren’t twins. We were clones.

At any time in New Eden, seventy-five clones of Adam Zero and seventy-five clones of Eve Zero lived under its domed roof. Like our human originators, we clones grew old and died. Each of us lived for seventy-five years exactly, prompting the creation of a new pair of clones every year to replace the pair that passed on. I came into existence almost eighteen years ago.

My counterpart, Adam 142, who was born on the same day that I was, still hadn’t arrived at the greenhouse. When I left school, he was in the middle of his last assignment, but I expected him here within minutes.

A man with a fit build, brown hair, and dark brown eyes approached, holding two baskets in his left hand and a ladder slung across his right shoulder.

My pulse quickened upon seeing the baskets, and I asked my older companion, Are we picking apples? I had seen other Adams and Eves pick apples on previous visits to the greenhouse, but I had never been allowed to go near the trees.

That’s right, Eve 135 replied, adding, as soon as Adam 142 arrives.

I found myself looking in the direction of the greenhouse doors every few seconds, wondering what was taking the boy so long.

Adam 135 set down the ladder and baskets next to the apple tree. I noticed that the baskets had straps attached, two loops that slipped over the shoulders and another belt to cinch around the waist. I couldn’t wait to try it on.

Finally, Adam 142 entered, glanced around until he spotted us, and jogged toward us, huffing and puffing. Judging from his heavy breathing, I guessed that he had run all the way here from school.

What took you so long? I asked.

Sorry, I’m not as fast as you in finishing my work. He made it sound like a complaint rather than a compliment.

With a smirk aimed at the older Adam, Eve 135 remarked, That sounds familiar, doesn’t it?

The two Adams shared a silent exchange that, if I wasn’t mistaken, meant, Here we go again. But Eve 135 didn’t comment any further.

Adam 135 picked up one of the baskets and showed us how to slip our arms through the straps so that our hands were free for climbing and picking. Then he demonstrated how to secure the belt around our waist.

Next, he and Eve 135 taught us what to look for in picking apples. We wanted firm fruits that were free of bruises, ideally yellow or orange in color with splashes of red. The green ones weren’t ripe yet, they told us.

The older Adam raised the ladder and propped it against the apple tree. Eve 135 held onto the base with both hands while he climbed up to the nearest fruit-bearing branch. Adam 135’s fingers closed around an apple, and he deftly twisted and pulled it from the branch so that the stem remained intact. Without looking behind him, Adam 135 tossed the fruit into the basket on his back. After picking two more apples, he climbed down.

Any questions? Eve 135 asked.

We shook our heads. Looks easy, I answered, but I immediately regretted those words.

Is that so? Then I want each of you to fill your basket with fifteen apples. However, to make the task a little more challenging, once you go up the ladder, you can’t come back down until you’ve collected all fifteen, so carefully choose where you want to climb.

Adam 142 glared at me, but he volunteered to go first. He sure-footedly ascended the ladder while I held onto it from the ground. I felt the vibrations travel through my hands and up my arms with each step he took, and I suddenly grew nervous about providing stability for my partner. He didn’t notice my tenseness and plucked ten apples that were easily within reach. Adam had to lean and stretch to grab the remaining five. On the last fruit, he leaned so far out that the basket on his back almost tipped over. I held my breath, afraid that if I opened my mouth, it would cause the swaying ladder to topple over with him atop it. After nabbing the last apple without incident, Adam returned to the ground.

It was my turn to strap the basket onto my back. The wood and plastic container was lighter than it looked and didn’t hinder my movement in the least. I walked around the tree until I found a spot with a cluster of apples. With Adam 142’s help, I leaned the ladder against the trunk near my destination.

Watching Adam accomplish the task gave me more confidence. With quick steps, I climbed the ladder, eager to show that I was as good as my partner. Thanks to my genes, I wasn’t afraid of heights, and neither were any of the other Adams or Eves. Near the top, I held onto a rung with one hand and began pulling apples with the other. Eight apples were within easy reach, but after I plucked them, I discovered that the others were farther away than they appeared from the ground.

I took two more steps up to the top of the ladder. Grasping the top rung with my left hand, I reached for another three apples. Then I shifted my position, now using my right hand to hold onto the ladder, and I was able to pick two more.

I looked around, gauging the distance to my next target. There were two apples next to each other just beyond my reach, which would make fifteen. I tried to stretch out with my left arm, then with my right, but the fruits lay inches from my fingertips.

Taking my supporting hand off the ladder, I leaned out and grabbed a branch. Eve 135 said that we couldn’t go back down the ladder, but she didn’t mention anything about climbing along the branches.

Be careful! I heard Adam 142 caution from under my position.

Mindful of letting my basket of apples tip too far, I inched my body along the branch. The first apple was finally within reach. I held onto the red and golden globe and yanked. The apple popped free from its stem. I forgot to twist and pull. Not ideal, but I still got the apple.

In my awkward position, I found it difficult to reach behind me to put the apple in the basket. I couldn’t just drop it behind my back because the basket’s opening had shifted to the side. I twisted around to locate the basket, and that’s when my grip faltered.

Suddenly, I found myself in freefall. I heard three voices shout Eve! and One Forty-Two! and then the ground knocked the breath from my lungs. I struggled to keep my eyes open, but the image from my prone position kept spinning.

Disorientation was quickly followed by pain as my arm and back screamed in agony, my nerves finally sending their report of the impact to my brain. I feared that I had broken my arm or worse. The sensation was foreign to me. I couldn’t think of a time when my body hurt so much. I clenched my teeth and felt awareness slip away as my body tried to protect itself from the pain.

Curiously, my thoughts turned from my own well-being. I tried to remember if a clone had ever suffered a life-threatening injury or died prematurely. I didn’t want to be the first.

Before I lost consciousness, I told myself, Clones always live to age seventy-five.

Chapter 2

After taking a Supplement last night and another one this morning, my arm felt much better. According to Eve 115, who inspected me at the hospital, my right arm suffered a sprain and my back a bruise. Otherwise, the fall didn’t do much damage. Three Supplements a day, taken in the morning, after lunch, and before bed should heal me within two or three days, according to One Fifteen.

We usually took one Supplement each day. The beige pills were part of everyone’s daily regimen. Only the elder clones knew exactly what was in the Supplements, but the rest of us took it on faith that the pills were good for us. They helped keep us healthy and mentally alert.

I was in a position to personally vouch for the pills’ effectiveness. When I was twelve, I lost my weekly ration of Supplements. I used to carry them with me all day long, and I made the mistake of changing clothes without taking them out of my pocket. Once I realized where they were, my clothes were already on their way to the laundry.

I was too afraid to tell anyone what I did. It wasn’t the first time I had lost my Supplements, but I didn’t want the adult clones to still think of me as an irresponsible child at that age. Fortunately, we all got new packets of seven pills at the start of each week, so I only had to go three days without them.

I didn’t notice any difference during the first day, but I started growing tired on my second day without the Supplements. By the third day, I was lethargic and my brain didn’t seem to work as well as it normally did. I spent most of the day in bed, and just having to walk around and do basic chores made me irritable. However, upon ingesting a beige pill from my new packet, my former vigor quickly returned.

I made sure never to lose my Supplements again. I now kept them in a drawer next to my bed. Eve 115 gave me half a dozen extra pills for my injuries. At first, I was tempted to hoard a few just in case, but she must’ve known what I was thinking because she made it very explicit that all six pills be taken by tomorrow.

After downing the Supplement, I pulled on a white shirt and pants that comprised our uniforms. My injured arm and back complained dully through the range of motion. Then I ate a grainy nutrition bar for breakfast and headed out the door.

In the hallway outside of my residential unit, I bumped into Adam 142.

Good morning, Eve. He liked to call me Eve instead of One Forty-Two, especially when no other Eves were around to cause confusion.

Good morning, Adam, I reciprocated the greeting.

Adam and I lived in residential units next to each other. Our floor housed the Adams and Eves from fourteen to twenty-two years old. The younger clones lived on the first floor, where they shared a large sleeping area with other children close to their age and had adults watching over the youngest ones. But once we turned fourteen, we moved into our own units on the second floor.

I noticed that Adam walked more slowly than usual, almost dragging his feet. I thought he might have still felt bad about my fall, although I told him it was completely my fault. He certainly showed a great deal of concern yesterday, even staying with me at the hospital until Eve 115 dismissed both of us.

My arm feels pretty good this morning, I said, moving it back and forth to support my claim. He nodded toward me without paying much attention, and the somber expression on his face remained. Something the matter?

I was just thinking about our assignment this afternoon.

With my injury, I had forgotten until now. After school, we were both supposed to visit the sanitation station. If my visit to the greenhouse yesterday brought about excitement and anticipation, today’s trip elicited the opposite feelings.

As seventeen year-olds who were on the verge of turning eighteen, Adam and I neared the end of the full-time educational phase of our lives. For the next three weeks, we would take turns apprenticing at five different locations in New Eden. These five positions were to be our occupations for the next ten years of our lives.

We didn’t have any input in selecting these jobs, but I understood the necessity of the process. In a city of only a hundred and fifty people, everyone had to pitch in however they could.

In the early years of New Eden’s existence, there was opposition to the way our lives were planned out for us. Some clones argued for the creation of additional Adams and Eves so that everyone had more freedom to choose their vocation. However, that idea went nowhere for two reasons. First, more clones meant that we needed more resources to support a larger population. That was burdensome but not insurmountable.

The bigger problem was that, as clones, we were all genetically wired to prefer the same things. Freedom of choice wouldn’t solve the problem because most of the Eves would undoubtedly gravitate to one field, and the Adams would in most cases choose the careers their genes disposed them to. We’d be left with even more positions to fill and unhappy clones to fill them.

The solution was for every clone to live the same predefined lives. In the first years of our adulthood, when we were still young and strong, we worked jobs that required physical skills and endurance, like picking apples and carrying containers of trash.

In our thirties, we moved into positions that utilized more of our mental instead of physical prowess. Through the course of our lives, each clone therefore had the opportunity to work in every occupation necessary to sustain New Eden.

It just turned out that one of our first jobs involved disposing of garbage, a task that all Adams and Eves dreaded. I tried to put the thought out of my mind. It wouldn’t be that bad, I told myself. It was only two years out of my seventy-five year existence, and someone had to do it to keep New Eden clean.

We soon reached our classroom and took our seats. There were eight of us in the room, and Adam 142 and I were the oldest. The One Forty-Fives sat next to each other at the front. Behind them were the One Forty-Fours, followed by the One Forty-Threes, and finally us.

Each of us had a touchpad and two monitors on our desks that displayed instructional materials. An older pair of clones, Adam and Eve 103, strolled around the room occasionally, answering any questions that we had. For the most part, however, the monitors were our teachers.

Today’s program covered history and math in the morning. I was fairly good in both subjects, and so was Adam. I once learned that before The War, classrooms consisted of several students of the same age, or rather, the same grade level, with a live teacher educating them all. The teachers assigned grades to each student as a measure of their performance. Some students got good grades while others didn’t.

In New Eden, grades were useless, of course. One clone couldn’t be distinguished from another in most cases. For what reason would I have gotten significantly different grades than Eve 143 or any other Eve? And why would it make a difference? I recalled that grades were a method in pre-War society to differentiate students so that some were offered better jobs later on in life. However, we clones all eventually worked the same set of jobs. The purpose of our classes then was only to educate and prepare us for the lives we were destined to lead. Even under different circumstances, I didn’t understand why schools before The War wanted to do any more than that.

The morning passed until the One Oh Threes dismissed us for lunch. We joined the younger, pre-teen children in the meal room, but we rarely sat with any of them. There was something unsettling about seeing a smaller version of myself that made me want to avoid them. I wondered if the older Eves thought of me in the same way.

After lunch, I practiced writing and then studied science. Science was my best subject, and I finished my assignment before Adam did. Usually, when I did so, I left school early, as I had done yesterday, but I was in no hurry to head over to the sanitation station, so I sat at my desk, looking blankly around the room.

Adam 103 asked if anything was the matter, and I told him that I was just waiting for Adam 142 to finish. He nodded and returned to his position next to Eve 103.

My gaze stayed on the couple. The older Adam ran a hand through his thinning and graying hair, and his companion sat with both hands on her lap. Their eyes alternated between the eight students under their supervision and their own monitors.

Our mentors didn’t talk to each other very much during school hours, but when I saw them outside of school, they looked like they enjoyed each other’s company. I wondered what it felt like for them to have known each other for decades.

I had never heard of an Adam and an Eve born in the same year not getting along. Sometimes, that made perfect sense, but there were also times when I