Slaves in Eden

By Tony Compton

The year 2082. Cardan Gentle lives on an idyllic island, keeping himself in tiptop physical condition for 'subsumption' with his god, though he has no idea what this means. His whole world is himself, his 200 friends and the 'angels' who look after them. After some disturbing events he is rescued, or captured, his horizons are infinitely widened and his probable destiny revealed, to substitute in dangerous situations for the one from whom he was cloned.

But from his captor, agnostic theologian Bjorn Harting, doctors Pentalla and Aidan, “Captain Pugwash”, other clones, the enigmatic Peary Binoche and eventually his own “original”, he discovers his fate will be even more horrific. However, he learns he is also the key to unlock and destroy the whole system, though it nearly destroys him. The action moves from his island to Ardnamurchan in Scotland, Cragside in Northumberland and eventually to Ely, where his efforts are rewarded and his sufferings assuaged, in what is now ' our fragile, damaged yet hopeful world'.

A dystopian novel? Yes, but with hope.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tony Compton
• Release date: Nov 15, 2016
• ISBN: 9781370926978

Tony Compton

I was born and brought up in the New Forest, Hampshire, UK. After school at what is now Brockenhurst College, and Cambridge University, I worked briefly on colour TV cameras with the Marconi Company in Essex, then taught school physics there and in Hertfordshire. I moved on to electronics, specializing in the medical field as a lecturer at the University of Hertfordshire (formerly Hatfield Polytechnic), along with some design consultancy. I retired with my wife Elisabeth to Hexham, Northumberland, in 2006, from where we visit our three children and five grandchildren as often as we can.Since then I have continued my other interests of classical music, particularly choral and organ, photography, natural history and theology (from a liberal/progressive standpoint). I also assist Elisabeth in running a Fairtrade stall. Elisabeth took the photo while we were on a walk in Northumberland, our other joint activity.My writing stems from a desire to explore how science and technology affect people, their beliefs and their lives, as much as the subjects themselves, though I read New Scientist regularly to keep up to date.

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

It was the day Harim Solaris came back from his God.

This was not the normal way of things. Usually your God called you, and welcomed you to be subsumed into his being, into an existence of consummate bliss. And why?… We dared not ask; it was one of the forbidden questions.

Now all of this is known, published in exhaustive detail and at exhausting length in every medium. So this account will focus on just one person's experience. I will tell my own story and add a dimension missing from the broader reports.

I thought at first to relate this with full hindsight, explaining everything as it happened. But I realized the tale would lose. Much of its meaning lies in what I could not know at the time. I will therefore, as far as I am able and even when it is most painful, write exactly how things appeared to me, as the events and my understanding unfolded together.

The fact that I can write at all, that I am alive in order to write, seems miraculous now, and all thanks to people unknown to me then. Even their existence I would have deemed impossible. To these friends I owe everything.

But enough of preamble. As I said at the start, Harim Solaris returned. He had left five days before, fêted by the usual celebrations blending sadness over our loss of a friend with joy at his coming subsumption and bliss. He had been a good friend to me in particular, helping me when racked by guilt over my evil curiosity. My angel could provide no comfort, only admonition and instructions to the caterer to alter my diet. When this had no effect, I no longer confessed to my angel, compounding the sin with evasion and further reason for remorse. He suspected this and hinted that it was time I saw a different one, older, more learned and more experienced.

But I am straying again. Harim Solaris came back, subdued and with a new right arm. It was young, strong and made subtle noises when it moved. And its little finger was straight. His own had been crooked, the result of an accident many years before. He told us the new arm with perfect fingers was a reward for his exemplary behaviour, for his friendship with everyone. When we were alone, he told me that it was because he had helped me especially. I stroked his beautiful, long black hair. Had he never returned, I would have mourned his absence as a friend. But I would have missed the touch of his hair too, as no-one else had a head like that; Harim knew this and understood.

Until we told him, my friend had no idea he had been away so long. To him it was just a sleep. His angel had appeared and given him a drink, a present from his God. He went to sleep and woke up still in his bed, though with some soreness in his shoulder and a feeling of strangeness and new power in his arm. When he stretched, it travelled too fast, hit the wall by his bed and knocked off some paint. His angel, sitting nearby, had laughed. He told Harim it would take a few days to learn how to control his new gift.

We celebrated my friend's return with music and gymnastics. Some weeks would pass before he regained his skill with the trumpet, but this did not matter today as he was the centre of the celebration, not a mere participant. He sat on a raised dais, happy and content. Secretly I wondered what befell his old arm; but that was another of the forbidden questions and I told no-one, not even Harim. Wondering was a sin and I could feel my stress levels rising, so I worked even harder at the gymnastics to consume the extra cortisone. I wanted to do so anyway, for Harim's sake. And he appreciated my spectacular vaults and leaps.

The caterer provided excellent fare including wine, only permitted at such events. Having no craving for alcohol, I could drink as much as I pleased. I enjoyed the flavour but felt no desire to drink more than two glasses. Others, like Audeley Black, were restricted to one glass: if he went for a refill only fruit juice emerged from the machine. On one occasion, when my attention was diverted, he borrowed my glass but the caterer detected his presence in conflict with the DNA from my lips. He was refused a drink of any kind and later his angel was forthright about it, though sympathetic and a little amused too. The cartoon on our Advisor next day reminded us to protect our bodies from excessive input of any food or drink harmful to our genetic makeup. It was amusing, with a kangaroo eating too much and failing comprehensively to clear a fence. So no-one felt too stressed about it, not even Audeley.

The celebration ended half an hour after our usual retiring time and we returned to our rooms. I was still elated from Harim's unexpected return, and not at all tired, so I repeated mentally some of our rules, which usually sent me to sleep straight away:

1. You serve your God by keeping fit, both mentally and physically. He will reward you greatly if he finds your body perfect in every way when you are subsumed.

2. To achieve this, you must eat and drink only what is provided and you must exercise as instructed, or more if your medic detects a rise in cortisone levels through stress.

At this point I should remind the reader that appropriate stress was provided by physical goals, like climbing the hill in our world within a set time. If we succeeded, the next food issue was of a more interesting flavour; if not it tasted bland or even sour. Stress made mentally, like wondering about forbidden questions or deceiving the angels, was detected by our medic as a raised but inappropriate cortisone level. As this could harm us in the long term we needed to work it off immediately, however inconvenient the hour. And such exercise, taken outside the allocated period, showed the others that we had committed some mental misdemeanour and led to embarrassing comments later in the day. Luckily, at Harim's party I could work off the extra cortisone, from wondering, by carrying out more vigorously what I was doing anyway.

3. You are required to live peaceably with the other inhabitants of your world, so as not to create inappropriate stress in anyone.

I had just reached the end of this third rule, and was already feeling sleepy, when my inner door opened.

My room was about four metres on each side and two and a half metres high. It contained a bed next to a small cupboard, which had a continually replenished glass of water on top and different coloured one-piece suits inside, so I could choose a colour each morning to fit my mood. The only other furniture comprised a chair and a small desk, on which sat the Advisor. We observed this every morning, to be informed about special events and reminded about any rules broken the previous day. Everything was explained by angels or talking animal figures like the greedy kangaroo. At the time we assumed that animals like tigers and kangaroos were imaginary. The biggest animals we ever saw on land were mice, though there were a few rats until the angels got rid of them. Sea-lions occasionally visited the shore, so we knew that some larger animals existed.

We could use the Advisor at other times of day too, to review earlier messages or to learn about the animals, plants and rocks in our world. Questions could only begin with What? or When? as a rule, though How was permitted if a mechanism was to be understood, like what caused the stream bed to deepen after heavy rain. Why? was strictly forbidden. If we sat in front of the Advisor for more than two hours in a day, we were told to leave our room and the outer door was locked against us until bedtime.

The only other features of my room were a toilet cubicle, a window through which I could see out but no-one could see in, a door which led to the outside world and another in the wall opposite. It was this inner door that opened and broke into my thoughts.

I sat up abruptly, in amazement. I had expected the usual kind of angel to come through, a person with the appearance of a human like myself but dressed in silver. What emerged was an animal I had never seen or even imagined before. It was superficially human, not very tall, with medium brown hair and blue eyes, but it was dressed in a sombrely coloured two-piece garment and its shape and dimensions were quite wrong. In short, the hips were too wide, the waist too narrow and the chest seemed to bulge forward in a disproportionate way. And yet, at the same time, something in the deep recesses of my mind responded to this creature. I felt as though I had been close to a being very like it, before I came properly into the world at my first birth, when everybody about me seemed huge and tripped over me as I stumbled about.

It looked at me nervously, like a bird I once approached too closely, then spoke with a voice human, yet higher in pitch than any I had heard since I was very young.

Wissen Sie, wer ich bin? it asked.

I had not the remotest clue what this meant, any more than were it a sea-lion barking. It tried again, this time with problems saying the words:

Savez-vous ce que je suis?

That was no better. But at last my shock and dumbness passed and I was able to speak:

I'm sorry, I do not understand you.

The being smiled, with a hint of relief, then with hesitation and a strange accent it inquired:

Do you know who I am?

Well, I thought I did, though no angel like this had ever appeared before. I then remembered that mine was seeking an older and more experienced one to see me. Perhaps angels looked like this when they got older.

You must be my new angel.

Yes.

It hesitated again, as if searching for words. This was strange too, as angels knew exactly what they were going to say before they breezed in through the door.

What is your name?

I was taken aback once more and had to bite my lip to avoid asking why it didn't know. For that I would have received unpleasant food for a day or more. Perhaps it was unsure which door it had passed through. Previous glances through the crack had shown a very dark corridor outside.

Cardan Gentle, I replied. The angel’s response was to make marks on a sheet of something.

I need to illuminate you, it continued, taking out a small black object and pointing it at me. It emitted a burst of light. The being returned it to its pocket and hesitated once more, before saying: Sie dürfen - er - you must say nothing about my visit, to anyone. I am a secret angel. Another angel will see you next time.

It made its way out of the door, which it closed quietly with a click, leaving me in a state of some discomfort. Changes to our routine were unusual and usually unwelcome.

However, since I was born for the first time, I had been taught never to doubt an angel. They were omnipotent, omniscient and immortal, though we had no idea what the last quality meant. So I relaxed, lay down again and went through some more rules in my head before, around number nine - All angels must be obeyed without question - I fell asleep at last.

CHAPTER 2

It is time for an account of myself.

As I told the secret angel, I am called Cardan Gentle, though my second name was a mystery. I am not a particularly rough person, but then nor were most of my acquaintances; Harim was certainly gentler than me. We had no clue what his second name Solaris meant, though he thought it might have something to do with the sun. He was certainly a light in my life. But I could not ask an angel directly about my name, nor anyone else’s; that was one more of the forbidden questions.

My skin is dark, though not as dark as Harim's, but my hair is of a light colour, brown with a hint of gold. I am quite tall, about one metre eighty, and ideally built for gymnastics. I was probably the best in that place we called the world. My limbs are not particularly long for my height, and my biceps and hamstring tendons are rooted some distance from the joint, giving them good leverage. Just before a gymnastics session, I would secretly wonder about such things. I was about to exercise anyway, so my medic would not notice the elevated cortisone. Was my purpose in the world to be good at vaulting and circling round the high bar? Did my God appreciate my skill, or would he have preferred me to be good at music, as Audeley was? His second name was Black, but he had pale skin and blonde hair. That was even more puzzling.

I once asked my angel if everybody had two names. I knew they did, but I thought I might find out why without asking a forbidden question. The angel failed to see through my subterfuge, and so fed me my first doubt of his omniscience. He told me it was in case two people had the same first name. This confused me even more as nobody had, and anyway I thought our names could easily be chosen not to be the same. There were only two hundred or so humans in the world, after all, and the number of possible sounds that could be combined into a name must be enormous. More remonstrations from my angel and much more exercise resulted. But curiosity and making connections continued to plague me. Perhaps I became so good at gymnastics because of all the extra workouts I needed.

When the story I am telling began, I was in my second life. At some point I knew I would move forward to the next and last, to be subsumed with my God. As to the start of my first life, some thirty years before, I thought I remembered nothing, though my encounter with the secret angel gave me doubts.

Our first world was entirely within ice, which moved and cracked beyond the transparent, insulated walls of our living space. We had no rooms of our own, instead we slept and were taught in dormitories of about twelve. When we were very small, one silver-clad angel looked after us all, but eight years or so from our first birth I was called to a special room by a message on my Advisor. It told me that I had come of age and would now meet my personal angel. We had special rooms for this. They had two doors, one to the world and one through which the angel came, just like the rooms in our next life.

My angel was small, not much bigger than me at that time, with dark skin and narrow eyes turned up at the outside. He spoke in a clipped manner, but was very friendly.

Hello, Cardan, he smiled. Now you have come of age, your needs will be different from those of your friends. I will guide and help you, so that you will make the best of this and your future life, and your God will be pleased with you when you are subsumed with him. I had no idea what this meant, but the phrase had been part of us since we could understand speech, so I felt no threat. The angel explained that from now on my food and drink would be individual to me, so I must not consume anyone else's. We had been taught already the equation of life:

Myself = DNA + experience.

Because each person's DNA was different, we all needed slightly different food, different amounts of exercise and so on. He then told me something new. Now I had come of age, thoughts by themselves could cause me stress, in particular any with the question 'Why?'. He shocked me by actually using the word, and I felt upset straight away. He detected this and laughed gently: You see what I mean? The word is powerful, and forbidden because it causes stress. He then explained about cortisone, which is released when you are stressed.

But, I said, it is released when we exercise too.

Yes, he replied, but that is good, because it is used up making your muscles work hard. If it is not, your heart beats faster and poisons circulate around your body. If this happened often, your body would deteriorate and not be fit for your God to see.

Should I not just lie down all day, therefore, so no cortisone is made at all?

My angel looked concerned.

You do ask questions, don't you? I nodded cheerfully. and think a lot? I nodded again, but less happily, as I could see this met with his disapproval.

I must ensure your diet is appropriate, he said, but I will answer you this time. You have to keep your body in balance. I thought this meant more beam routines, but he continued: You must exercise, to keep your body fit, but cortisone must only be made in that context. If cortisone is made inappropriately, because you have asked forbidden questions or otherwise had stressful thoughts, what do you think you must do?

I was taken aback, as no angel had ever asked me to think before. We had been asked questions, certainly, but only to ascertain that we had learned the facts about the world and our relationship to our Gods correctly. However, I did as he commanded and pondered, feeling my stress levels rising. I made the connection:

I must exercise, so the cortisone is used up appropriately.

That is correct. And you must do it immediately, even if it is not the time for exercise.

But others will see.

Indeed. And they will know you have been thinking inappropriate and stressful thoughts. So your aim in life is physical exercise and mental quiescence. That will make your body of the highest quality.

For my God, I intoned from habit.

Exactly so, said my angel, looking pleased. Now you must exercise for twenty minutes, because of the stress of this conversation.

My life continued in this vein for the next five years or so. I became especially good at gymnastics, but against this I still tended to think beyond what I was immediately told. My diet was changed frequently and my angel showed much concern. He found it hard to keep my mind docile while ensuring I maintained sufficient concentration and motivation to exercise.

I often walked by myself around the edge of our frozen world. There were parts where a diffuse light would filter through the walls of ice, even when the lights inside were turned down at night. But at other periods, for several months at a time, our world was enveloped in total darkness. When I first realized this I became upset, thinking the light had gone for ever, but my angel told me that it would return. He was pleased that I liked to watch it; I think he felt it distracted me from more uncomfortable thoughts. Sure enough, one lunchtime, I could just perceive a red glow through the walls. It made me so happy that I performed my most demanding gymnastic exercises before it and fancied it saw me, as it became brighter and lasted longer each day after that. When I told my angel he approved, though he did warn me not to let it supplant my God in importance within my mind. I acquiesced, though I found it difficult to see as more significant a being whom I would never see but perhaps become part of, as against something beautiful I could watch every day. I did ask my angel once what my God looked like. He glanced at me very sharply and said that was one of the forbidden questions, so I tried to imagine my God as a bright light shining through ice. It helped, but I did not tell my angel.

The others in my world changed too, as our characters matured. We seemed less like each other than we had before and discovered that we preferred to be with particular friends rather than with just anyone. But we still treated all others with care and respect, as rule 3 demanded. I found myself increasingly with Harim and Audeley. They were both musical, which I was not, though I appreciated and enjoyed their playing. I could see that we all had our different strengths, mine in gymnastics, theirs in music and, for Harim in particular, in kindness. If anyone was upset, perhaps because they had failed to achieve their exercise target and found bland food on their plate as a result, it was Harim who cheered them up. He retold animal stories from the Advisors, which we all knew but he gave extra pleasure because of the words he used. I also realized at this time how beautiful his hair was.

One day, all the angels appeared and brought us together. It was a long time since our whole group had been assembled in one place, and I was astonished at how much space we took up, standing in ranks before our silvery, glistening angels. We seemed to have outgrown our icy home. One of the angels, whose suit was more gold than silver and who was in charge of the others, spoke to us in a loud and impressive voice:

My dear people, he said. All of you are now between thirteen and fifteen years of age, and it is time for your next birth. Soon you will sleep, and then wake up in a new world. There is nothing to worry about. You will not be uncomfortable. Your new world will be a brighter and warmer place. Angels will now come among you with the cup of transition. Drink from it, and wake up anew. My blessings on you all! And he raised both hands in the air.

By chance, it was my own angel who brought the cup. I asked if I would still see the light shining through the ice. You will see it directly, not through anything.

But will it be as beautiful?

Even more so. Now drink this. It had a warm, sweet flavour and I was asleep within a few seconds.

I woke up in a room by myself, the one I have described already. I should have felt concern, even panic, as this was strange and new, but something in the drink must have calmed me. I tried the doors, to find one that was locked. The other opened and I stepped out into my new world, where indeed the light flooded bright all round, though to my eyes a little harshly. I did not think it as beautiful as when it shone through the ice, but knew I would get used to it. It warmed me, which was not the case in my former world.

I looked for my friends and we walked out to learn our new domain. Coming from our rooms, we saw straight ahead a high point, rocky and with trees dotted around, particularly in two gullies which led down on either side of our view. We later discovered a third, on the far slope. Several of us climbed the hill straight away, to view our whole new world. We caught sight of open water to one side as we climbed, but only at the top did we realize that it surrounded us completely. Unlike the areas of water in our ice cave, this sea had waves which could reach a height of several metres in a storm and crash down on the windward beaches. To the west stretched a large expanse of sandy beach with a garden behind, while to the north and east the shoreline was more rocky. The southern seaboard was hidden from us by our living quarters and other buildings, and we had no access to it. Among the rocks were small areas of dense woodland, in which we later discovered lizards, mice and small birds. Larger birds visited from time to time and occasionally sea-lions would enthral us by approaching the rocks and calling.

Over us, the sky was blue and the Sun shone through a haze. At night, we could also see the Moon, Venus and Jupiter, though according to our Advisors we should have seen other planets, also stars. My angel told me that there was a filmy net covering our whole world, to protect us. There were about two hundred supports for this, around the coast, but he said the net finished about twenty metres above the sea, to allow birds to fly in and out and sea-lions and ourselves to swim without entanglement.

There was a track round the edge of the world, which we used when running. The fastest among us, like Harim, could complete a circuit in around nine minutes, though the rest took nearer ten, or even more if we were simply jogging. The area in front of our living quarters was flat and used for meals and celebrations, like the one we held when Harim returned.

We moved to our new world about fifteen years ago, and nothing changed after that until my secret angel called. No, not nothing. Three of our number were subsumed with their God, the last one about two years before. I did not know them well, but we all joined the farewell party, where we thanked them for their life with us and looked forward to our own subsumption, whenever that should come.

CHAPTER 3

Our first encounter with violence is wholly evil. It should remain so, though it seems that people can get inured to it, and even enjoy it, which makes it so hard to remove from the world.

We had not long finished lunch. I was particularly pleased, as my time to run up the hill and back was within three seconds of my best, so my food had been especially good. As I aged, exercising and gymnastics seemed to get harder, not easier. I was sometimes a little stiff when I first got up and certainly my running times were less good, so I mentioned it to my angel. He asked the caterer to balance my food differently, which had some effect, but I began to wonder whether an alteration was to take place in my life. Perhaps I would be subsumed, or there might be another re-birth, when I would have a younger body again. I tried to discuss this with my angel, but was quickly told these were forbidden questions. I wondered, to myself alone, whether the nearly-forgotten visit of the secret angel two weeks before heralded something new.

But I digress. It was a calm day, with just a murmur from the sea. We sat or lounged in our usual spot for relaxation, next to the garden by the western shore of our world. Its small fountain soothed us by its quiet sibilance, while we digested and chatted. Our topics were trivial, from opinions on the latest food to noting that the sea-lions had not appeared for some weeks to commenting that Heironymus Backgang had developed a limp.

Suddenly, with no warning, a short distance away and like our fountain magnified a thousand times, the sea erupted with a roar, hurling immense waves towards the beach. I was the first to sense the danger. While the others sat mesmerized, my mind constructed the waves’ path and told me they would reach where we were sitting.

Get back! I shouted. They will flood over us!

I started to run, glanced back and saw that no-one had moved.

Come on! I yelled in desperation. My panic communicated to the rest at last and they struggled to their feet, just as the sea withdrew to make way for the first mighty surge. Everyone now tore ahead of the wave crashing up the beach, swirling past where we had sat and pursuing us as we made for higher ground. We all made our escape, though Audeley and one or two others less speedy were washed up to the knees. We turned, petrified, and watched as several more waves arrived, each less than the previous, until the sea returned to its gentle murmuring.

We stood, fixed to the spot. Fear swam through and among us, palpable and nauseous. Audeley broke the silence:

What was that? he rasped. I have seen the sea in storms, but never such waves.

On the beach below us, the sand forms were changed and a crescent-shaped bay filled our favourite sitting-place, while seaweed torn from its roots was thrown into random piles above and around it. The garden with the fountain was completely wrecked.

Harim was by me and I stroked his hair to calm my nerves.

We are very stressed now, he said. We must exercise to work off the cortisone. Then perhaps we can think more clearly.

We jogged away, increasing speed as the others joined us one by one. Most of us completed three circuits of the world before we sat down together, puffing and blowing but calmer, to face our beach, now hideously transformed by its memory of the eruption.

Danton Primavera was a small man with swarthy skin and very dark hair. He understood physical events more quickly and clearly than the rest of us. When we were born on to our island and saw new things, like a flash of lightning or changes in shape of the Moon, we all looked to him for help. The Advisors provided us the bare facts, but Danton could make each of us feel we had discovered the explanation for ourselves. We all turned towards him.

I don’t know what happened, he began. I have no memory of anything like it, either here or on my Advisor; though of course its database is huge, no man can search it all. I will try later to find out more. He fell silent. But some of us were not satisfied.

Danton, said Harim gently, can you not make a guess? You may be right, and anyway we love to listen to you thinking. It will distract us from the terror we felt.

There were uncomfortable mutterings at this. Thinking was close to forbidden questions and some of our number were unhappy. Not many shared Harim’s enthusiasm. But Danton had become so expert at phrasing his answers as though to ‘what?’ or ‘how?’ or ‘when?’ that even if he answered a ‘why?’ I don’t think we would have noticed.

He sat for a while longer, then smiled.

Very well. It looked like the fountain in the garden, only much bigger. But the fountain runs, or did run, all the time, unless an angel turned it off to carry out maintenance. We did not know what this word meant, but if angels did it, it could not be wrong or unnecessary. Danton continued:

The fountain is driven by something called a pump. I don’t know how it works, but it is connected to the electricity supply. That was another thing we knew nothing about, except that the Advisors and lights in our rooms and the caterer for our food had to be connected to the electricity supply building, or they would not work.

There is something called power. I don’t quite know what it is, but I do know that the electricity supply has a power limit. Do you remember, many years ago, when the angels brought us a second caterer, so our meals could all be ready at the same time and we wouldn’t need to eat in shifts?

Oh yes, said Audeley, with a grin. They connected it, there was a huge thump from that electricity supply building and everything stopped working. We were all so stressed we had to run twice round the world, and when we got back they had taken the new caterer away. The angels then told us it was better to eat in shifts after all, though I don’t remember the reason they gave.

I think we were too exhausted from the run to take any notice, laughed Danton. But I found a little item on my Advisor which said that there is a limit to the power our supply can give. The second caterer added to everything else must have exceeded it.

This is all very interesting, I said, but how does it explain the huge fountain?

It doesn’t, continued Danton, but it does mean that it could not have been powered by our electricity supply. It needed far more power than a caterer. He sat back complacently.

OK, said Audeley, so we know what couldn’t have caused it. You haven’t finished!

Danton laughed. I knew someone would see through me! But it gave me more time to think. For some while I had felt that Danton possessed the ability to think about one thing while talking about another. I envied this in him, which caused me stress, so I took care only to envy him just before an exercise session.

The nearest I can get now, he began, to a hushed audience awaiting his every word, and that even went for the anti-thinkers, is that it was some kind of bubble formed on the sea bed. In our stream, there are one or two pools where the water flows very slowly and there is mud on the bottom. Sometimes a bubble comes up out of the mud and bursts at the surface. If a very big bubble came up, it might make a fountain like the one we saw. I think tomorrow I will take my water glass down, use it to carry some air to the pool bottom and let it go. Then I will look at what happens when the bubble reaches the surface. If any of you want to come and watch, you’re very welcome.

The mutterings returned. Some, myself included, would have liked to see but others did not approve of Danton’s experiments. They seemed dangerously close to asking ‘why?’ rather than just ‘how?’ Sadly, Danton never had the chance to show us.

That evening, my angel appeared. From noises in the corridor beyond the inner door, there was a general influx of them. My own, the same who saw me eight years after my first birth and who with great patience had advised and remonstrated with me over the intervening years, looked more worried than I had ever seen him, indeed more than such an omnipotent and omniscient being had a right to be.

You have all had an unpleasant surprise, I believe, he began. Tell me about it. I gave an account of the giant fountain and the waves and concluded with what our friend had said. Danton thought it might have been a bubble emerging from the bottom of the sea. Like the little ones in the pool only bigger.

The angel looked relieved. That sounds very convincing, he said, and offered nothing further in explanation, though he advised us not to sit too near the sea until the angels had investigated, to check no more bubbles were there waiting to frighten us. They were all going to stay for a few days’ maintenance anyway.

I slept badly that night, woke early, got up straight away and went out. My medic did not tell me my cortisone was up, so I decided to take a leisurely walk down to where the waves had struck, to see if the new bay was still there or whether the tide had replaced the sand during the night. I stepped outside and noticed a couple of us running together towards the eastern part of the world, away from the beach. I assumed they were even more stressed by yesterday’s event than I was and were working off the cortisone, but I maintained my original intention and headed for the shore.

I had just reached halfway, enjoying the cool air before the sun rose fully, and making a resolution to do this more often, when a hideous scream slashed through my thoughts. The hair stood up on my neck. Such a fright should have sent me straight into exercise mode, but I felt an urgent need to find out what had happened, in case anyone was hurt, so I ran as fast as I could anyway. Behind me I could hear doors banging open, as other people shot out of their rooms, shouting in panic.

At the edge of the beach, amongst the seaweed thrown up by the waves, squatted Danton. He was crying convulsively and rocking backwards and forwards. I rushed up and knelt beside him.

What’s happened?

I have seen a hand, Cardan! A human hand! he screamed. I could only just understand the words.

Where?

In the seaweed. It must have been thrown up by the waves. But where did it come from? He was a little steadier now, but still crying.

Where is it now?

I threw it back into the sea. It was too horrible. I know I should have kept it to show the angels, but I couldn’t bear to look at it. He heaved another sob.

Everyone in the world had now arrived, including all the angels who had stayed for the maintenance. My people were all crying and screaming in sympathy with Danton, though only a few had arrived in time to hear what he said. The noise was horrendous. Two angels joined us and signalled me to move away. They took Danton by an arm each and led him back to his room. He was still quivering and shouting: What was it? Where did it come from?

An angel, mine as it happened, called out to everyone to exercise immediately, as this was a powerful emotional trauma. Some started running, I did some lively gymnastics, and the atmosphere gradually became calmer.

When my medic told me my cortisone was back to normal I found a place to sit, a long way from the beach. Harim joined me and I could hear the little noises made by his new arm as he sat down. I sensed he was still too upset to want me to stroke his hair.

What did Danton see? I’m prepared from his reaction for something shocking, so tell me.

He thought he had found a human hand. Amongst the seaweed.

What! But where could it have come from?

Audeley had joined us by this time.

The big fountain? he suggested.

But there was no-one in the sea at the time…was there? asked Harim, ending in a sudden whisper.

Everyone was at dinner last night, I replied. We would have heard if anyone was missing.

Could it have been an angel? They arrived very quickly and are obviously concerned.

Angels are omniscient, I retorted, they would have known the fountain was going to happen and kept away from the beach. A little doubt crept into my mind but I suppressed it quickly, to avoid having to do more exercise.

The others became silent. This did seem to be the last word. There were no humans apart from ourselves and angels. If they counted as human. I did not mention my secret angel.

Later that morning, we were told to look at our Advisors. I turned mine on and nearly fell off the chair. There, inside the sphere, was a human hand, or so it seemed. I called ‘Start!’ so nervously that I had to repeat it before a voice began the explanation.

"This is Alcyonium digitatum. It is a soft coral, sometimes called Men’s Fingers, because of its colour, shape and size. It lives in sheltered places or amongst seaweed, near the shore. If seaweed is thrown up on a beach by a storm, Men’s Fingers can appear as well. It has been known to frighten people who think it is a real hand…" The explanation continued with details about the tiny polyps living on its surface, but I switched off, with a sigh of relief. So Danton had been mistaken.

But how would he react to this news? I thought I should visit him, as he might feel foolish and be in need of reassurance, so I stepped outside and walked down the path towards his room. Two angels were passing, a little way off. They stopped.

Where are you going, Cardan?

"To see Danton.