Curing Eve: Eve 1.0 Sequence

By Chloelia Salome

The world seems on the verge of collapsing. The Chancellor is ready to redefine the human race. In his mind, a world with no remembrance of human history but the existence of a super human race is the ideal world. The Chancellor has every intention to play God in the evolution of mankind. Little does he know that he will be met with much retaliation from the underground resistance. Meanwhile, the resistance is fighting its own internal battle, with factions forming and questioning their leader’s right to rule. When all seems to be lost for humanity, how does Evadene Mendes expect to change it all? In the chilling, final installment of the EVE 1.0 sequence, everyone’s allegiance will be put on the line. Hatred will replace love as Evadene and her followers must choose between saving themselves or risking it all for humanity. Time is running out, and some of the biggest sacrifices will be made to put an end to the tyrannical rule of a sick man—the Chancellor of this wondrous nation.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Aug 26, 2017
• ISBN: 9781387189595

Book preview

Curing Eve: Eve 1.0 Sequence

CURING EVE: EVE 1.0 Sequence by Chloelia Salome

Copyright © 2017

Chloelia Salome

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form, except for the inclusion of brief quotations in review, without permission in writing from the author/ publisher.

ISBN 978-1-387-18959-5

This is a work of fiction. Characters, corporations, institutions, and organizations in this novel are either the product of the author’s imagination or, if real, used fictitiously without any intent to describe their actual conduct.

Front & Back Cover & Text by Ana Maria Gonzalez

Published in the US by Lulu.com

Leaders should lead as far as they can and then vanish. Their ashes should not choke the fire they have lit.

-          H.G. Wells

CURING EVE

Book 3 in the EVE 1.0 Sequence

By Chloelia Salome

Prologue

T

he ringing of the alarm was a noisy reminder of the past. The persistent alarm mimicked the sound of a gavel that once pounded against a glass table, signifying another jurisdiction in the court of law. But this wasn’t just any jurisdiction that came to memory. This was one that rung closer to the Chancellor’s heart than most others he dealt with.

The guilty parties sat ten feet apart from each other and ten feet in front of the Chancellor. He had not batted an eyelash when he was informed he would be the presiding judge for such a personal case. Usually, the Chancellor tried to avoid this duty. He had more pressing issues to deal with than incriminating or punishing individuals. He considered it a task that other qualified government officials could undertake. This time, however, was different. The Chancellor could not, and did not want to, pass up the opportunity to witness these defendants squander under his domineering presence.

These parties deserved just punishment for the actions they attempted to carry out. In this wondrous nation, no type of lying or going behind the Chancellor’s back would be tolerated—not even by family.

Yes, the Chancellor’s sister and her husband were the defendants in this court of law. The reason for their arrest is quite simple: they were accused for not complying with government orders. According to the court proceedings, they attempted to terminate delivery of the EVE 1.0 supplements to one specific village—their hometown. They only had two points of defense to protect themselves. The first was that they already complied once with the Chancellor by creating the supplements. The second was that they didn’t want their family to be harmed by their actions.

The court, however, had even more proof against them. It turned out from outlying sources, that the two Doctor Mendes attempted to thwart the Chancellor’s plan to distribute the EVE 1.0 supplements to everyone in the nation, not only their home village. Their plan excluded the capital. It is for such master plans as this one that the court ordered for a trial.

In the basic laws of this wondrous nation, the Chancellor made it clear that no citizen outside the boundaries of the capital was permitted to decline EVE 1.0 consumption. If they did…well their actions correspond to punishment by death. The Chancellor granted the right of choosing the best ‘kill mechanism’ to the soldiers in charge of distribution.

The soldiers swore their allegiance under oath to the Chancellor to always comply with his orders and never question or doubt his leadership. Should they be found guilty for noncompliance, they would be executed, no questions asked, no trial permitted. The doctors of the Capital swore an identical oath, with identical consequences. This is the category Mr. and Mrs. Mendes fell under.

In other circumstances, the Chancellor would not even hold the trial—he would have immediately sent the guilty to their deaths. However, because the guilty were his own blood, he felt a stronger obligation to look them in the eyes and verbally deliver their punishment before the actual act. It was merely the moral thing for him to do.

If anything, the Doctor Mendes were lucky they even received a hearing in court. Any and all traitors would be immediately disposed of. But since Mrs. Mendes was family by blood to the Chancellor, it was only fitting that the two be heard out.

The Chancellor was not one to tolerate excuses. He made this known to the public when he decided to televise throughout the capital the hearing of his relatives. Everyone tuned in that fateful day, whether by force or by curiosity, to see justice doled out according to the Chancellor’s principles.

The trial did not last long. The Chancellor mercilessly and hastily sentenced his sister and her husband to execution the following day. They were found guilty, deemed as traitors and stripped of all titles they once held in the Capital. 

On that famous Digipad airing, the sound of Mrs. Mendes screaming could be heard echoing through the walls of every house in the capital. The people cheered when they heard the Chancellor’s decision. They were just as insensitive to such illegal acts as he was. In fact, it appeared as if the majority of the citizens didn’t even feel an inkling of disappointment in the fact that the Chancellor sentenced his own blood to death. Was there no mercy for family? Apparently, this was justice, and the people lived and breathed the rules of the Chancellor. He was always right—they heralded him as a god that gifted the people with his earthly presence every day that the sun rose.

Please, you can’t do this brother! Mrs. Mendes screamed. The Digipads captured in vivid high definition every tear that trickled down her face, the way her cheeks became blotchy with rosacea, and the way her hair stood up at all ends like the mad scientist she once was.

Her husband was surprisingly calm, maintaining a bored composure for the cameras. Compared to his wife, he looked frozen in space and in time. It was as if he knew exactly what he got himself into, and that the punishment was no surprise. He was just going to accept the future the Chancellor had planned for him—he wasn’t going to fight for his life, or the future of his children. Most importantly, he wasn’t going to give the cameras the drama the people of the capital itched to see.

The Chancellor did not respond to the outbursts of hysteria that his sister exhibited. He just watched from his booth several feet above them, gavel still in hand. He felt so exhilarated letting it bang against the tabletop, affirming his decision in sentencing his family to death.

He did not move from his glass throne as soldiers filtered in to claim the wiggling bodies of the traitors. Mrs. Mendes protested and flung her arms in all directions, trying to avoid the soldiers approaching with chains but also trying to push them away.

The Chancellor smiled. He relished seeing his sister and her husband struggle in the grasp of so many soldiers. There was no escape for them, and the citizens of this wondrous nation were privileged enough to watch this event go down in history.

Our children! You’re going to kill them! Your own blood! his sister yelled. Her voice cracked on children. She was referring to the young girl whose name the Chancellor didn’t care to remember, and the little boy. The Chancellor had only seen them in photos. He wouldn’t be able to pick them out in a crowd of people, nor did he have any desire to. These children, that she claimed shared the same blood as him, held no meaning or emotional attachment to him.

Flipping through the reports of the Mendes’ trial gave the Chancellor a major sense of accomplishment. Although it hadn’t been more than a year ago, he accomplished so much since then. The execution of his sibling and her husband was one of the founding blocks for what would become his incredible reign over this wondrous nation. As that event went down in history to be remembered forever, it also solidified the people’s allegiance to him. It marked his ultimate rise to dictatorship.

As much as he enjoyed reading the reports outlining everything that was said in court that day, he wished he could watch the execution again. Thankfully, his memory was so vivid.

The traditional methods of execution included, but were not limited to, the electric chair, hanging, guillotine, and death by firing squad. Although the public seemed to enjoy watching all these methods displayed on the Digipads, he believed these convicts deserved a much more…unique execution.

He spent several long nights researching a just execution method. It wasn’t until the night before they were supposed to be killed that he stumbled upon the best mechanism he had ever seen.

It was called ‘Genickschussanlage,’ which in some strange language translated to the ‘neck shooting facility.’ It seemed easy enough to build, and was perfect because the convicts would have no idea what was coming for them. They would have no idea they were walking to their deaths until…. well, they were already dead. Their deaths would come from behind, just like they went behind the Chancellor’s back. It only seemed a fitting punishment.

And so, the press followed the prisoners to the building they would be executed in. Once they reached the front door, all recordings were turned off and the soldiers pushed them inside. It was dark, save for a single bulb illuminating the hall. The place reeked from chipping, toxic paint and moldy floors.

The Chancellor was nowhere in sight as the Mendes were led deeper into the building. They were brought into a stark white room with no decoration, save for a height measuring device tacked to the wall. The husband and wife had their eyes on each other, tears streaking down their cheeks. What was going to happen to them? Was this really it?

I love you, Mr. Mendes whispered. His wife bit down on her lip and nodded her head in agreement. She was at a loss of words, completely overtaken by her emotions.

You, one soldier said roughly, pointing at the husband. Over here. He jutted his chin towards the measuring device.

Mr. Mendes kept his eyes on his wife the entire time he dutifully marched to the device. He kept watching her as another soldier lowered the bar to the crown of his head. Why they had to measure his height, he had no idea.

And then there was a slight clicking sound and a burst.

The gunshot echoed in the barren room.

Mrs. Mendes screamed, falling to the floor as her husband’s head was severed from its body. Blood gushed from the neck as the body slithered down the measuring device. There was a trail of blood that followed him. The head was several feet away.

No! she yelled, this time her voice shrieking and echoing louder than the gun.

This was the cruel and unusual punishment to be handed to the Mendes doctors. This was what her brother had planned for them all along. He was making them pay for the way they so-called ‘betrayed’ him. How could he be so merciless?

One soldier kicked aside the body as if it were no more than a ball and then motioned to another soldier to retrieve Mrs. Mendes.

No, no no! she protested, flailing her arms and legs like a child in seizure. The soldiers did not care—two picked her up with little effort, carrying her towards the height measuring device. She squirmed in their iron grasp, begging for a way out of these horrors. Surely there was a loophole, or something that could be done to avoid such a death.

She was going to be killed the same way her husband was. This wasn’t right! She couldn’t die. She still had to see her children one last time; she wanted to watch them grow up, she wanted to see Micah mature into a young man. And if she couldn’t do all that, then at least she deserved to say goodbye to Micah and her Eve.

You’re going to make this worse for yourself if you don’t stand still, a soldier scolded her gruffly.

She didn’t care, she was going to fight until every last drop of blood was drained from her body. She refused to give up—mostly for her children’s sake.

But there was not much she could do. The moment they got her restless body against the device, they lowered the stick above her head, and bam, she was gone.

She didn’t even have time to bat an eyelash. Her body separated, blood was everywhere, and she was gone. Just like that.

He remembered watching them come into the room through the tiny peephole behind the measuring device. It was made in such a way so that when the person was lined up in front of it, he could adjust the height of his gun so that it aligned with the victim’s neck.

You see, he already knew his sister’s height—after all, they did grow up together. So releasing the bullet into her neck came almost as an instinct more than a calculation. He had to be more careful not to miss on her husband, but he could have just as easily killed his sister if his eyes were closed.

This was the famous Genickschussanlage execution method. The Chancellor took a liking to it. He was surprised it wasn’t used more often. But now that he had instantiated his authority over the nation, he figured he would bring this execution method back into popularity. And maybe, in the future it would be one they could publicly display on all Digipads.

The Chancellor put down the papers documenting this execution and walked away from his desk. Enough of reading old reports—it was time he forged new ones, and new paths for the nation. Revolution Aqua was finally underway, and even after the mishap with Doctor Engelmann and his test subject, the Chancellor’s own niece, he was sure they could still complete the project on time. And damn, that would give the people of the nation something worth talking about.

He walked over to the only mirror in his office and began to undo the clear bowtie around his neck. The lights in the walls illuminated his features, making him look not so much devilish—but more so angelic. Where was the irony in all this? The man who killed his own blood without the blink of an eye was the same man who appeared as a hero, an angel, to his people. Either they were absolutely clueless or the morals that made up society had completely flipped.

The fact was that the Chancellor was a hero to his people. Looking into his own eyes, he wasn’t scarred by the deeds he committed against his family. He didn’t wince at the fact he shared the same eyes and the same thin lips with the sister he killed. Instead, those lips turned up into a cocky smile, and those eyes lit up with the prospect of more merciless and fruitful memories to create. Those were the determined eyes that his sister would never have.

The nation was going to be overrun with Revolution Aqua, and there was nothing stopping it this time around. The problems were eliminated and now it was a straight shot for the Chancellor, this angel.

CHAPTER 1

S

ettling back in to schedule and atmosphere of the resistance did not take as long for Evadene as she imagined it would. once the people realized she was the Evadene they knew so well, they accepted her with open arms. They were friendlier and offered help in every way possible. Some even gave her portions of their dinners. Although they showered her with kindness and assistance, they did little of the same for James. Evadene knew that would take baby steps.

The people were wary of his allegiance, and it didn’t help that he walked into their safe place wearing the uniform of a government soldier. Evadene did all she could to prove that James was on their side, but the support would have to come from the people, not Evadene. She was sure that eventually it would come.

The first thing Evadene did once the people settled down was eat food. Last time she ate meat was the last time she was in the resistance—she had lost track of the days since then. Could it have been months even? Something in her made her afraid to ask one of the resistance members exactly how long it had been.

The moment Evadene’s teeth sunk into a tough piece of meat, every other thought flew out of her mind. She felt like she was in utter bliss and heaven. Her time spent in the camp had made her taste buds numb to the wonders of savory foods. Little did she know that food could be so mouthwatering, even when not more than a crumb graced her dry mouth.

The camp offered her mouth no such delicacies—she was lucky if her lukewarm water would have scattered, rotten potato skins. Even the addition of dried grasses added more taste, but not enough to make her thrilled for the next meal. In fact, sometimes she would skip meals at the camp, which made her lose so much more weight and become even weaker, because she’d rather be starving than throwing up the remains of a moldy soup substance.

The first few meals in the resistance did not sit well with Evadene’s stomach. She threw most of them up, and struggled to keep anything down until day three of being back. Even by then, she ate the portion size of a five-year-old, and struggled to put on weight. Some of the women who prepared the meals were concerned about her but she shushed their worries.

If I survived in the camp on nothing, I can survive here on actual food, she would say to them. They would immediately shut their mouths, because they knew nothing about the camps. There was nothing they could say as a retort.

And for the rare occasions when someone would beg for her to take their portion at meal time, she would reply smoothly, I’ve never felt happier or healthier than I am now. So I need you to be just as happy and healthy. Eat your food. You’re part of this family, and the resistance is all I’ve got.

Some of the people would choke up and smile with pride for being considered family in Evadene’s eyes. Others would turn a horrified and ghostly white, for reasons Evadene did not understand.

Thinking of her blood family only made her depressed. She was very reluctant to accept the fact that Micah died from the cancer supplements shortly after she was taken by the soldiers. She was even embarrassed to imagine that there was a time he was on his deathbed and she didn’t feel it. When her older brother Abraham died in the military, she had felt that something was wrong, but she couldn’t put her finger on it. When her parents disappeared for longer than they usually did for trades, she also felt a knot growing in her abdomen. It was like an ominous, gnarled up knot in the pit of her stomach that wouldn’t go away until she figured out the missing pieces. How, then, had she never felt this way when Micah was dying?

She looked for excuses every day and every night that she walked the breadth of the resistance. One reason she came up with was that becoming a prisoner in the camps had made her insensitive to almost everything. It was impossible to still feel and survive, so she had to pick between the two. There were times when she was ready to give up and die, but she always found an inner part of herself begging to live. So she sacrificed her feelings and her heart.

Her surroundings and her family became a blur. The only thing on her mind was how she could avoid the fate of having a bullet torn through her body. No matter how numb she became, her fate was not to be killed like thousands of other innocent prisoners. When she looked back on her time in the camp, she was always saved from death, even during the times where she completely gave up and begged to die. Someone was always looking out for her when no one was looking out for Micah.

Once Evadene felt a little more at ease back in the resistance, she was more determined than ever to honor her brother’s death. She was going to plan a proper funeral for Micah. Although their leader Wren was a kind and caring woman, Evadene knew she would not have taken the time or bothered to create a little ceremony for one of the younger colony members. If Micah was born into the colony, that would have been something worth considering under Wren’s standards. However, she considered him as no more than a sickly traveler with no place to go to.

The resistance took him in because they were good people who care about everyone in their reach. They would be just like the Chancellor if they didn’t take under their wings a dying little boy. Although Wren adopted this motto with an iron fist, deep down she didn’t really care for Micah. She was not pained by his death, and did not even think twice about the impact it would have on her loved ones, especially Evadene.

In fact, since Evadene’s return, Wren became even more distant. It was hard for Evadene to recognize the older woman because her head just seemed to be in a different world. Her mind and feelings were elsewhere, which was quite obvious with the way her eyes were so glassy and her cheeks were always rouge. Granted, she was breathing more life than ever before because of the return of her husband, the Chief.

Welcome back, Wren had said in a singsong voice when she laid eyes upon Evadene for the first time since she returned. Although her voice was soft and friendly, her face shared no such emotions. Her lips were in a straight line, her brow creased as if she were frowning. Was she actually disappointed to see Evadene return?

Thank you, Evadene had said, testing the waters. I missed this place and the people. It really feels like I’m home.

I’m sure it does was all of Wren’s reply. She could not muster together the words to say anything else. I have to get going but I will see you around.

And with that, she had walked away, leaving Evadene confused and alone in the large cavern. Surely, Wren was not busy but rather was occupied with her husband. After all, he appeared to be all she cared about and focused her efforts on dealing with. No longer did she appear as the fearless leader of the resistance, ready to march on the capital at a moment’s notice.

Evadene had a growing fear that her next task as a member of the resistance was to overthrow Wren. Perhaps she was more concerned about Wren’s job than the people were, because they didn’t seem to think anything was amiss in the way she led them. However, Evadene knew that the resistance needed direction and someone to actually lead, otherwise they would get nowhere in their goal to overthrow the Chancellor. Had the people of the resistance forgotten so easily the goal of the resistance just as easily as Wren did? As long as Wren was living in a fantasy land with her husband, there would be no such goal-orienting taking place in the resistance.

Evadene took her mind off planning how to take over the resistance by planning Micah’s funeral. She knew permissions granted her way were limited, because it was clear that no members of the resistance could draw any level of attention to themselves when above ground.

And remember, James said one day. "Since I abandoned the capital, more soldiers might be out searching for me. The forests might be crawling with them."

I know, I know. Evadene had tried to shoo him and his warnings away. But he made sure to rarely leave her side, and in so doing, rarely left out his warnings.

Evadene was no fool; she didn’t need James’ warnings to know that they could not take the risk of exposing themselves or the entire resistance. At this point, Evadene assumed their only advantage over the Chancellor was James’ supposed disappearance and Evadene’s supposed death. As long as the Chancellor thought there were no threats towards him and his reign, they would be able to plan a retaliation against him.

Planning a proper funeral was a lot harder than Evadene imagined it would be—especially when there was no actual body to mourn over. The first person Evadene went to was Soren.

Where is his body? she had begged him.

Soren had run his hands through his long hair and tried to avoid looking into her eyes.

I’m sorry, Evadene, he whispered. But they had to get rid of his body. Otherwise it would smell.

Evadene’s lower lip trembled. She wrapped her arms tightly around her torso and shook her head. She didn’t want to believe him. I don’t believe you. I want to see my brother one last time.

It’s not going to happen. He crossed his arms over his chest in a resolute way and now looked her deep into the eyes. It was never realistic to keep the body around for longer than a day. And we knew there was a slim chance you would return in such little time.

By this point, Evadene was besides herself in tears. She didn’t hide her sobs as she realized she would never actually see her little brother again. He was gone forever.

What did they do to him? she whispered when she finally caught her breath amidst the tears.

They burned it. It leaves no trace.

Evadene gasped. My little brother, she cried. My little brother.

After that, Soren had taken it upon himself to comfort her. He didn’t know what to do other than to wrap her in his arms and rub circles into her back. It was all he could do at this point to keep her from completely falling apart.

Since that moment, Evadene had composed herself quite well. She didn’t cry at the thought of her deceased brother. She had come to accept the fact that he was gone and that she would never have the opportunity to look at him