The New Self-Reliance A Novel of Endurance: Book 2 of the Kristen-Seraphim Saga

By G. V. Loewen

Kristen and Mike's joy in reunion is immediately plunged into a new series of challenges that force them to suspend their disbelief in an ever-shifting world of trans-dimensional intrigue. From spirits animating the wrong bodies, agents from another universe, sudden membership in a family they've never before known, and dangerous technologies from both the future and the past, the heroes must also confront the ongoing mystery of how to replace the undead God or even if they should do so. Slowly assembling their team of intrepid young friends who themselves are not at first where they need to be, Mike stolidly pursues the dual nemesis of both their antagonist and his strange tools, while Kristen travels back to Tudor England to reboot the timeline in their favour. The narrative hurtles forward until they are all hanging on a precipice, their friends both new and old trapped in time, Mike transformed materially and his soulmate Kristen stunningly and unexpectedly transfigured.

"The second instalment of Loewen's radical new adventure series is everything readers could have hoped for. The mystery deepens, the stakes attain new heights, and the characters develop insightful personal relationships that find them thrown together in both existential bliss and angst. This shocking cliff-hanger will only raise the ante, for readers as much as for the heroes themselves."

• Language: English
• Publisher: Austin Macauley Publishers
• Release date: May 31, 2019
• ISBN: 9781528964463

G. V. Loewen

Social philosopher G. V. Loewen is the author of over thirty-five books on ethics, religion, aesthetics and social theory. His ten-volume adventure saga 'Kristen-Seraphim' brings many of these wider themes into general readership.

Book preview

Interrupted

About the Author

Social philosopher G. V. Loewen is the author of over thirty-five books on ethics, religion, aesthetics and social theory. His ten-volume adventure saga ‘Kristen-Seraphim’ brings many of these wider themes into general readership.

About the Book

Kristen and Mike’s joy in reunion is immediately plunged into a new series of challenges that force them to suspend their disbelief in an ever-shifting world of trans-dimensional intrigue. From spirits animating the wrong bodies, agents from another universe, sudden membership in a family they’ve never before known, and dangerous technologies from both the future and the past, the heroes must also confront the ongoing mystery of how to replace the undead God or even if they should do so. Slowly assembling their team of intrepid young friends who themselves are not at first where they need to be, Mike stolidly pursues the dual nemesis of both their antagonist and his strange tools, while Kristen travels back to Tudor England to reboot the timeline in their favour. The narrative hurtles forward until they are all hanging on a precipice, their friends both new and old trapped in time, Mike transformed materially and his soulmate Kristen stunningly and unexpectedly transfigured.

The second instalment of Loewen’s radical new adventure series is everything readers could have hoped for. The mystery deepens, the stakes attain new heights, and the characters develop insightful personal relationships that find them thrown together in both existential bliss and angst. This shocking cliff-hanger will only raise the ante, for readers as much as for the heroes themselves.

Dedication

To those everyday heroes who have endured their

own life’s tests.

This is a work of fiction. Although real places may appear, any character’s resemblance to persons living or dead is purely a coincidence.

Copyright Information

Copyright © G. V. Loewen (2019)

The right of G. V. Loewen to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with section 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.

Any person who commits any unauthorized act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.

ISBN 9781528925846 (Paperback)

ISBN 9781528964463 (ePub e-book)

www.austinmacauley.com

First Published (2019)

Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd

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E14 5LQ

Epigraph

The problem I thus pose is not what shall succeed mankind in the sequence of living beings, but what type of man shall be bred, shall be willed, for being higher in value, worthier in life, more certain of a future.

Nietzsche, 1888.

Chapter 1

A Farewell

Eighty-eight. Not bad. Two weeks of study and this was the score Kristen had pulled off for her GED. This represented the official end of her time as a student, at least, of the school-girl variety. Onto college in four months. She bid good riddance to it all. But others wished to bid her a fonder farewell and even wish her the best. This was news. Mrs. Harris, her former principal, had arranged a ‘going away’ party for her, to be held at the community center. Harris was obviously sensitive to the idea that Kristen might not want to revisit St. Athelstan’s, though the administrator and leader could not possibly know that the events that Kristen had lived through since dropping out, far out-compassed anything she had experienced in school. Even so, Kristen was relieved and even touched. Michael would, of course, be at her side. She would flaunt him, and be proud of it. Far prouder of being with him than even being herself, especially now.

For now, she lived in a world that had lost some of its love and light. Given this, she also had to confront the fact that neither she nor Mike knew much about the ultimate outcome of Kristen’s dark heroics. She was without family, without friends. Her soul mate was alive, however, and this fact alone outdid the damage done. Still, it was going to be tough, Kristen thought to herself. Now back in possession of her inner voice, she found that she needed it more than ever. Oh, you flatterer, you’ve got Mike Hunt, remember. You don’t need me like you used to. Besides, who’s the one stop shop for the new and improved Bond girl? I guess that would be me, Kristen answered herself. I’m both the girl and the agent in one. I wish I could just be the girl again, though. I killed almost everyone who loved me. I willed their deaths and I carried them out. Well, except my dad. That was Michael, er, Michael’s previous person, er, oh, whatever! But I would have done it myself if I hadn’t been taken so off-guard back there. With Mary, poor Mary. But she’s alive, and so is my mom! Except they don’t know me. Except that she’s Mary’s mom.

Kristen wondered if she could again befriend Mary even so. They’d be starting from scratch, zero. How could that possibly work out? The whole time since she and Mike had moved into the house they were sitting for a sabbaticant, had been occupied with two things: studying for the GED and brooding. Well, no, three things.

Hey Ten, are you sure you’re being satisfied right now? I’m basically still a cripple, and I feel bad about it. After all, I did this to myself, and prematurely too. Kristen was on the verge of weeping. No, Mike, I shot you. I did it. But you also did it. What the hell?

My prince, my soul. But this was all she could get out of her before she simply crawled across the couch and flung herself onto him. Now she really was crying. What was this, the fifth time in two weeks? She really needed to get a grip, if all she had fought for was going to have a future, however uncertain.

Darling Kristen, the perfect Ten, my perfect one. Listen, maybe we can get it on again tonight, huh? I’m feeling stronger every day, you know? Kristen flushed, not so much of embarrassment about having sex and wanting it so badly even though Mike was still in a lot of pain from his injuries – self-inflicted in one time-world and caused by her herself in another – but because in her experience she was precisely the cause of all of his pain, of both the bodily and spiritual varieties. She summoned up some courage; God knows where that had come from:

Mike, my everlasting love, I am so selfish. But I swear to you, I only did what I did to you to free you. I didn’t know what else to do, I am so, so sorry…. Michael held her as tightly as he dared, kissing her forehead and now nibbling at her ear. He reached around and grabbed her behind and sensuously squeezed both cheeks with one hand. Kristen was immediately warm and distracted, but she fought down the obvious urge for a time. Please Michael, I don’t deserve you, I… Then she gasped and winced. Michael had smacked her bottom quite firmly. Just once, to get her attention, it seemed. Hmmph! Now how dare he, oh, I get it…

Miss Ten. I never ever want to hear that from you again. It’s I who don’t deserve you, Princess Pluck. You saved my life. You did the only thing you could and carried it off, even though it meant engaging another kind of worldview which looks like lunacy from any rational perspective. I owe you my life, girl. I’m going to pay that debt back to you some day, at some time. Kristen shook her head.

No. You already paid it back. Back in 1517, in the forest with my dad. Mike pondered on that one.

You really think that was me, then, or my soul, or whatever?

Yes. More and more so over the past two weeks or so, since we reunited. I feel him inside you. Now, of course, I want you more, and I like you more. We’re from the same time and place, which is now, even though this isn’t the same now, exactly, as when we met, oh shit… Kristen was getting into the same old muddle that she and Mike had been puzzling over since they had found each other again. Sorting logistical things out helped them settle down and settle in, though lovemaking had had to get even more creative given Mike’s injuries. But logistical and material variables hadn’t shown them one iota of the larger problem, the paradoxes of temporal and dimensional shifting, and the utter incongruity of their different experiences of it. Even time seemed to have moved at differing paces in the two worlds they had experienced. Mike had been in the hospital for three weeks. Kristen had been on her mission for only two. And yet both timelines had started more or less at the same moment.

Listen, Michael, manly and true, I was in the vanishing house and property for a period of time. That’s when my time-line could have been sped up. It felt like only a few hours at most to me. Then the whole forest thing. That seemed like three days at most. Eleven – let’s call them congruent, days – with the other modeling crowd, which means I had ten days to make up in about three or so. Maybe in the other dimension time moves about three times as fast as it does in this one? A brief pause, Hey, keep going with that, please baby. Mike had stopped his massaging of her rear view when he had begun to ponder the implications of temporal speeds and differing experiences of events. He smiled at her and winked, resuming his rubbing. Kristen was now quite aroused, but even so,

"Let’s say there were events that had to happen, or happened as they did because they occurred either at the same time, or within a stated and finite period. My being shot twice in exactly the same places in both worlds is an example. In one, you did it to save me, in another, I did it for the opposite reason. You saving me allowed my former self to save you later on, but also earlier on. Later on in your experience subjectively, earlier on in history.

The manner in which time intertwines between dimensions obviously can’t be reduced to a mere numerical factor then. Because you shot yourself very early on in the sequence, then I shot you to save you, then you saved me by shooting my altered father. Jeez. We’re getting nowhere with this!

Oh, I wouldn’t say that… Well, uh, no. I’m definitely inclined to incline myself right about now, Kristen thought without reproach. It was nice, that since her inner voice had returned, it had kept its editorializing to more profound matters. I wonder if there’s enough blood to spare in his body right now, for Mike to raise his profile where it counts. I am so selfish. She then stripped off what little she was wearing and Mike gallantly took the hint. They’d been able to make love only about once every two days during this period, and each time Kristen had felt enormously bad in conscience afterwards. But Mike had told her he did too. They were going to have to continue to work at it, each getting over the contradictory but somehow correlated facts of having pulled different triggers and yet having caused the same results. But each time Mike had been up for the pleasantries at hand, and as Kristen sunk him into her, it did seem that each time they were breathing new life into each other. Poor Mike couldn’t always come though, the energy levels from the injuries affecting his physiology in an obvious manner. Kristen made sure to get as much out of it as she could then. You’re still a brat, but I guess some things don’t change in any world. I know. I feel terrible about it, but he needs this too. Don’t you see how happy he is when he makes me happy? Is that just an excuse? Maybe it was. Nevertheless it was also a fact. Kristen came with tears running down her cheeks. The both of them had been traumatized beyond belief. Yet here they were again, safe and together, loving each other all the more. They were two souls, and yet also one. Hey!

Was it possible that the events that occurred in both of their diverging experiences were due to the fact that their souls were somehow related in more than just the sense of having known and loved one another across time? That they were more like one thing, and that their encounters – at least, the two different ones they knew about, oh, and she had not yet told Mike about BL; it might be that her shady benefactor was Mike’s soul not from the past, but from the future – had occurred in the manner in which they did not by virtue of love alone, but of essence.

That looked pretty good from here. Mike was staring up at her with boyish adulation. Her sex was still throbbing, but she was also silently sobbing for him. He was trying to bolster her sense that this was not only her privilege but it was her right to ask him for this shared gift. She wasn’t ready to buy that quite yet.

Oh, my one and true love, Michael, my darling sweetest boy. She whimpered out, partly due to her exhausting performance but also due to her lingering bad conscience. We are one thing, one being, in love like this. I so want you to take me, take your pleasure from me and out of me.

I will, sweet angel girl. Just a matter of time. After all, I’ve gotten to the stage where I can at least give you pleasure. That’s always been more important to me anyways, you know that. To see you in ecstasy gives me the greatest joy. It doesn’t have to be so physical. Kristen tears kept coming but they were now a mix, reflecting her feelings the more fully.

But I love to see the same in you. I feel so selfish, taking you anytime I ask. I’m going to quit it until you’re really ready. Mike pulled her down on top of him and grabbed one of her ears in his mouth, whispering,

Oh no, you’re not, young lady. Try that and you’ll be over my knee in no time, understand? Kristen couldn’t help but giggle, then she swooned into him and started sobbing more vociferously. How could she deserve such a mate? Yes, it so turned out that they had already saved each other’s lives. But was there a deeper motivation, a more singular agency at the back of it? Had they really saved their other part of themselves, saving themselves in the process? Was that how it always worked? But Mike was caressing and massaging her again, and once again they held parliament, as his member was still upstanding in her gallery. But afterwards, Kristen at length resignedly pushing up off him and easing herself back down at his side, wrapping her limbs around him, carefully avoiding his abdomen and left foot in doing so, she still felt a little ill at ease. Mike must have felt her trepidations. As was the case about half the time for them now, she answered her feelings unexpressed in words. I want you this way too, Ten. We need to take a break together; heal ourselves and heal each other. Making love is one of the major ways you and I do that, people like us. In love, and maybe more than even that.

"That’s just it! What exactly are we, my angel? I mean, who time travels, hosts an evil soul, kills altered beings with no evidence remaining? Who meets their lover in a past life, regains him in the present, saves him, and is yet saved by him? Who gets to do all this, the lightest and the darkest things?"

It does seem like we’re not quite normal, doesn’t it? Kristen even managed a wane grin.

"And it’s less and less so, in a way. The only people that have survived intact from the previous world are in fact the two of us, the one of us. But hey, Mike, you’ve never yet mentioned a thing about your family. I wonder now that I’ve lost mine, that you didn’t want to hurt me or something."

I did think that I would be flaunting something, but you know they’re kind of at a distance from me anyways. Otherwise, I would have taken you to meet them by now. I actually haven’t spoken to my dad in over a decade. He left me and my mom longer ago than that. My mom has a new family and a new life. I’m kind of out of it there. I guess I just felt like it wasn’t worth worrying you about, especially during this entire time. Originally, I didn’t want to lose you in the same way that you held back about your age. I thought maybe you’d think I was from some dysfunctional family and that I was thus hiding something negative about myself that would come out later.

"I knew we were meant to be together some hours after we met in the library, hero prince. I never really gave up on that, though it was a bad, bad moment when I did what I did to make the painter’s soul move back out. I uttered the most sincere prayer I’d ever done in my entire life to your soul, out there on the grass, beside your unconscious body. Somehow, you must have heard me."

Maybe you were praying to yourself.

Kristen felt the tears well up again. Mike reeled her into him, then, to her astonishment, pulled himself up on top of her and slid himself into her again. She gasped, the feeling of intense and unexpected pleasure brooking her sobs. Oh my gawd, my prince, what a stud, what a fucking… oh, Oh! She had come, just like that, and she felt him show some signs of life that way too. They would get through this. Mike eased up but not off. Kristen opened her eyes to see those now legendary orbs looking down at her with their patent and altogether transcendental alchemy of fondness, gentleness, and compassion staring into her. The eyes were the windows of the soul, said Aristotle. Maybe Mike’s were able to reignite his corporeal form because his soul was at least as old as the painter’s. Hmm. Maybe the painter’s soul, destroyed by her, was some ancient rival of her mate’s. He was still throbbing inside her. She let it happen one more time, his presence inspiring her. This is what he wants. This is what you want, you skank. He told me he wanted it too, to see me in joy, so go to hell. I’ve already been and back, which I think you know all about. What? Her inner voice had finally given her a clue about its absence. But what did it mean by that? Mike finally, if cautiously, pushed himself back off her. Kristen was all smiles now.

Guess that worked! he grinned at her, but there was still some real pain in that face. Hopefully, all of it physical only.

"You, oh you! God, oh, Mike, what oh what can I say to you? My hunger for you is boundless. I want you and I want to be with you and I want to even be you."

"Well, maybe we already are each other. Maybe what a soul is, is its own absence and reunion. Maybe the greatest joy consciousness can accrue is to be parted only to come together again. Maybe we must bear our own absence so that our combined presence transcends itself?" Oh yeah, there he goes again, making me look silly. In their absence for each other, with Kristen having to rely so much on her own native wit, she had forgotten just how very deep her beau was. So, so smart. And his injuries would heal before he started teaching his first class too. And she was going to be there for him. She had told him she would be his assistant, as well as taking the class for credit. The only thing he had cautioned her with was that someone else would have to grade her papers. Well, of course. Couldn’t have a conflict of interest like that at the very start of a brilliant career. Kristen nuzzled into him again, letting him know how she felt about him without saying anything. She was at least pretty good at that. The modeling agency with whom she now worked had said she had a remarkable ability to express her feelings. She had had to tone them down, because now the shoots were all for department store catalogues and flyers. They airbrushed the images a little as well. Ironically, it was a lot less authentic than the more erotic stuff she had done in the other dimension. Smiley, the nice version, she meant, had been bowled over by this talent, and wanted more and more of it. But consumers, that is, regular consumers of clothing articles for their own teenagers, apparently did not. She had found, after the first day on the set, that she really had missed the other kind of photo essay. So much so that she had wanted to ask Mike if she might make a change, that is, if she could ever find an outfit like BL’s in this world, which she knew was rather doubtful. Then, an inspiration, of sorts.

"My pet prince, my hero, what do you think if you learned to operate a camera and we cut out the middle man, as it were? Send my images out and keep all the cash ourselves. Sell my images to distributors, that kind of thing."

Uh, what kind of distributors? Mike eyed her with part amusement and part caveat. Kristen realized in a trice she was playing the naughty girl again. The reason it felt so good and that she kept it up was that it was something that she had felt she had lost for good given the intervening events, so horrifying and violent, with her at their center. Well, maybe not, maybe it was as essential to her as was Mike himself, though much, much less profound.

I was just thinking, every time I go on set for the store shoots, I feel a real regret about losing the other kind, the more racy kind, you know? Mike’s eyes narrowed but not in a truly dangerous way. We could start our own business. Smiley, the other Smiley, that is, the nice one, said that when my hair grew back, that I’d be up for something bigger, like even fashion photography, you know? Then Kristen realized she needed to explain about the other outfit, the only gap her narrative had about her experiences in what apparently was an alternate, if related world. Michael listened with both relief and also jocularity.

No surprise that Miss Ten likes to get undressed in front of the camera. So you’re trying to get that back and give us the leg up, so to speak, in a different way too?

Yes, yes, that’s it! I have a talent – at this, Mike interposed with, ‘Oh, really? I never noticed’ and she couldn’t help but give him a playful but very gentle shove in the chest – and I thought you and I could exploit it without me exhibiting myself to other people, well, other people who are right there, you know? Michael nodded.

This Smiley character, he must have been a kind of genius. An artist in his own way. I never could mimic that. In order for this to work, you’d need a professional photographer. Why don’t we simply hire one and send the dossier out to fashion agencies? They could pick you up and act for you. But Ten, if you really want to do this, it’s serious stuff. The long hours. You might have to travel to the cities of fashion. Kristen now looked woebegone. She didn’t want that! You’re getting in over your big fat head, again. You want him to give up on his Ph.D. to follow you to Paris and Rome? And what about your own studies? Make a choice, girl. What’s wrong with the Sear’s catalogue after all? You make good money now. Oh, shit, I guess so. Back to square one:

’No, Michael, listen. I don’t want to do the runway thing. I’m simply not tall enough anyway. I’ll quit everything tomorrow if there was a hint that I was going to miss you, that you’d miss me. You know, we need to recreate the Renaissance forest in our own time and in our own way, right here and right now."

"We have that, I think. Look at us, free house and car for a year, me and you doing exactly what we want to do and doing it together. We have enormous freedom in this life. That said, I can’t help thinking that we have a larger obligation. That we might just have to go to war again, this time at each other’s side throughout." Kristen shuddered visibly and Michael held her close.

I wonder if we’re going to have any choice about it? was her reply.

***

I get to show you off. I’ve never been so proud! Kristen mocked it up a little as they were headed over to the community center to meet with her ex-teachers, of all people! This idea of her former principal seemed a little bit out there, but it was one way in which she and Mike could reinsert themselves into society as it was at present. But she really was looking forward to preening in front of that crowd with Mike at her side. She had dressed to the nines, too; her hair looking slightly more beautiful each day, well, don’t be ridiculous. You still look great, brat. Code violations everywhere. Good thing you’re not actually in their school anymore. So what? Who’s gonna punish me now, huh? I’ll do exactly what I want here and anywhere else. Your mate needs to take you in hand. I’m hoping for it every day. Thanks a lot! Whose side are you on, anyways? Her inner voice was no doubt referring to her hem length, amongst other things. But she knew Michael wouldn’t want it any other way. She was a model, after all, even though it was oddly vanilla, and ironically so, wearing swimwear and underwear as well as the usual clothing, and then having her images edited visually so that all the potential sexuality was drained off. Store catalogue and flyer imagery exhibited its own form of magic, nullifying the real thing in favor of a literalness that supplied the consumer, often mothers, no doubt, with the bearing and deportment that they ideally wanted to see in their teenage daughters. Fun-loving and good-natured objectification, and that was all.

And now she was heading back into a scene where teachers, again, of all people, were part and parcel of this same charade. They were simply the professionalized pedagogic version of that social illusion. Well, she had dressed to smash it into a million pieces. With her timeless lover by her side, together they’d upset the apple cart of middle-class respectability. No, scratch that, they were going to blow it up.

My turn next week, Mike said, breaking in on her ongoing social critique. Kristen gazed round and up at him with a questioning face. Yeah, the philosophy department is having a term end wine and cheese. It’ll sort of be in my honor in a sense, because of my recovery. It’s a little more than embarrassing, but having you with me, well, and maybe you can dress kind of like this, pretty please… – Kristen nodded with exuberance and stuck her tongue out at him – "Anyways, I can’t wait to show you off. I’m nothing but a shadow." At that, Kristen gave him a swat where it counted, though a very gentle one, and declared,

I wouldn’t be alive without you, hero. Never forget that. We’re equals. Equally beautiful, and equally important. I just hope I can match your intellect one of these days.

"Oh, Miss Ten, you’re so far ahead of me when I was your age; there’s no worries there," Mike said this as if he were sixty-two instead of his actual twenty-two. Kristen patted him again and then squeezed him as hard as she dared. It was the first time she had dressed up since her other modeling career had abruptly ended. It felt tremendously empowering to do so, but she realized with a start that the both of them were actually quite nervous about going public in any way. Could it be that in the crowd tonight, there might be an agent of the shadows? What about another altered being that she had missed on her tear through the other dimension? It wouldn’t do to get paranoid. But though ‘God’ had told her it was over for her, the implication was that she was now at the service of some other for whom the fight had maybe just begun. If this were so, there was no doubt in her mind who would be at the center of the next metaphysical confrontation. She looked up adoringly at her mate.

It may be your turn in another way too. But this time, I’m not going to leave your side. We’ll fight through it together. We kind of know what we’re up against now, and there won’t be any danger of collateral sources of evil interrupting and distracting us, like with that painter fellow. This time it will be a united front. I wonder if we’ll both be able to meet our former selves, or our future ones. Michael looked a little nervous and pensive.

I won’t have you put at risk ever again, my love. I feel like I let you down big-time last time. I should have forced my way into your parent’s place and seen that it was Mary and not you. Then I could have searched for you and we could have fought through the previous battle at each other’s side.

"They would have killed you on the spot if you had discovered their ruse. I mean it, Mike, my altered parents were the personification of evil. Look what they did to me. No, you must not feel any bad conscience about that. You were in shock anyways. I would have tried to kill myself too, had the roles been reversed. Yes, I would have! Kristen had to repeat herself as Mike had shook his head. They had now stopped near the front doors of the community center. Fortunately, everyone else looked like they had already arrived. They held each other’s arms and looked into each other’s faces. You need to get past that, please Michael; I’ll do anything to help you. I bear you no ill will at all, not a shred. We saved each other. It had to happen the way it did. If BL was really your soul from the future, he saved me too. You’re actually one up on me. Which means…"

Which means I need you, badly, baby. Which means I’m the target now, I reckon. Kristen didn’t look down but exerted a forceful effort to continue to look Michael right in the eyes.

You’ve got me. I’ll die for you. But you know, I don’t think I’ll ever have to.

Touch wood on that, please, baby. Kristen flashed him a sudden mischievous smile.

Yeah after the party, I’ll be touching wood with Mike Hunt, polishing a staff so shiny it’ll…

You need your backside polished, that’s what. Kristen gaped a little at Mike’s quick quip and then mocked,

Oh, says who? Let’s see you try it! she dared him. Michael nodded ‘okay, I will’ to her and she tripped a little in her heels as they proceeded up the stairs. Would he really do that? Nah. No way. Though it’s exactly what you need, princess brat, as usual. Maybe it would get you focused back on what really matters. You think I’m not focused on him? He’s the only thing that matters, in this world or in any other. Then get ready to defend him. I’m ready now. And she was, somehow. God, I’m feeling differently all of a sudden. What happened? But they were now entering the center and people were coming up to greet them first and foremost, Mrs. Harris, a big smile on her face, but also a look of astonishment. Must be her clothes and the presence of Michael too, Kristen thought to herself with a smirk. Well, here we go! Hey, I’m actually getting into this!

Kristen Anne Smythe, wow! When you showed up at my office to start all this off, I had the thought that you could be a model, and now I hear that you actually are one. Good for you! And your handsome escort.

Yes, Michael, this is Mrs. Harris, principal of St. Athelstan’s charter school for, uh, for the privileged.

Delighted, Ma’am. Harris shook her head.

Please, it’s just Emily. Now that Kristen is a free woman, the former formalities are meaningless.

From what I heard, your school is also free of something, Mike teased. Kristen blushed a little, but then her former principal’s response took her aback:

Oh no, we supported her in this endeavor from the beginning. It was I myself who suggested it and it has worked out very well for everyone so far. I have complete faith in Kristen’s ability to perform at the college level. Indeed, we found out from the board office today that her score was the highest in the district’s history for a sixteen-year-old. At this, Kristen and Mike looked at each other. Another alteration? This time seemingly far too trivial to have warranted any shadowy agencies’ interference. Maybe they couldn’t take anything for granted now.

Glad to hear it. I share that faith, of course. Kristen’s about to join me for my first ever course. I have more faith in her as a student than I do myself as the instructor.

Well, Kristen’s smarts extend far beyond the academic sphere. Since you’ve been such a good friend, that really means something, I think. You know, character wise and work ethic, as well as intelligence.

No, I guess I have to accept that compliment.

"Yes, my friend, I wouldn’t be friends with just anybody, you know." Kristen purred.

As your host, I’m afraid I must mingle, but please do the same. Everyone here wants to see you, Kristen, you’re the guest of honor, after all. Emily departed and they observed her slowly making her way towards a podium. But before the two soul mates could discuss this latest evidence of world changes, Kristen was inundated with well-wishers of all stripes. Their adulation for her was unmitigated by any sign that she had been a real hellion in school, disruptive in the classroom, conceited and smart-mouthed. Her attire provoked nothing but good-natured compliments and not a hint of scandalized aversion. Finally, after negotiating this crowd of staffers who verged on fans, Mike and Kirsten were called to attentiveness with the rest of them by some sounds near the front of the room. Emily Harris was now at the microphone:

My dear friends, colleagues, and staff, I want to thank you all for coming to wish our best and most honored former student, Kristen Anne Smith, the most exciting and happiest of futures. Much applause, drowning out Kristen’s gasp at the sudden slight alteration of her surname. Michael was staring at her, his face partially touched with true concern. All of you know how decorated she has been as a young person, but now, fittingly and without delay, she needs to make her way into the adult world. A lengthy formal education still awaits her, but I am sure you will agree with me that no one that we have known at St. Athelstan’s Collegiate has ever been better prepared to take it on. In some small way, I hope that we as a school and you as individuals can take some credit for this preparation, but nevertheless, the credit for her achievements is hers and hers alone. More applause and even some cheers. Good lord! And her school had never had the ‘collegiate’ thing appended to its name. What was going on here? But more than this, she had been a public menace at the school she had known, and Harris had been compassionate