Proceed to Remembrance

By Michelle Facer Baguley

While ruling for ages, Aria Governess Supreme has kept a tight rein on her subjects, eliminating free will through brain-computer interface and hippocampus manipulation. Aria commands life or the disposal of it without fear of retribution or affliction of conscience. When a nuclear holocaust destroys the world she created, her disaffected scout, Cliff, gazes over the barren land seemingly devoid of life and wonders what is next in his journey to survive.

Even with the employment of Aria’s scientific prowess, one subject remains untamed. Emery, both a hindrance and a marvel to the Governess Supreme, has tested the bounds of Aria’s resolve at every point in her life. Despite the brain-computer interface and governing control, Emery has managed to lean on the teachings of her Grand Nanny for guidance, fight the restraints placed upon her, and ultimately find her way through life. Now as she wanders the desert afraid and alone, Emery vacillates between her memories and her harsh new reality. But when her path ultimately crosses with Cliff’s, everything is about to change.

In this post-apocalyptic tale set in the remnants of a destroyed United States, an untamed subject and a defiant scout attempt to survive in a world run by governors desperate to exert absolute power.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Archway Publishing
• Release date: Aug 22, 2019
• ISBN: 9781480878808

Michelle Facer Baguley

Michelle Facer Baguley is a recovering politician who once served as a city incorporator, city council member, and transit trustee. She has also worked as an assisted living activity director, but the titles that give her the greatest joy are wife, mother, grandmother, sister, and daughter. Michelle currently lives in Herriman, Utah. This is her first book.

Book preview

Copyright © 2019 Michelle Facer Baguley.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

Archway Publishing books may be ordered through booksellers or by contacting:

Archway Publishing

1663 Liberty Drive

Bloomington, IN 47403

www.archwaypublishing.com

1 [phone]

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Scripture taken from the King James Version of the Bible.

ISBN: 978-1-4808-7879-2 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4808-7880-8 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2019907260

Archway Publishing rev. date: 8/21/2019

Contents

Introduction

Prologue

Chapter 1: The Scout

Chapter 2: White Hot and Burnt Memories

Chapter 3: Useful

Chapter 4: The DIGS

Chapter 5: Grand Nanny and the Governors

Chapter 6: The Governors

Chapter 7: Daydreams

Chapter 8: The Decision

Chapter 9: The Collectors

Chapter 10: The Lullabies

Chapter 11: Aria

Chapter 12: BCI’s and Submission

Chapter 13: BOB, Books and Ruth

Chapter 14: Does It Exist?

Chapter 15: Karl

Chapter 16: Eli and Esther

Chapter 17: Lightning and Life

Chapter 18: Grand Nanny, Prayer, and Commodities

Chapter 19: The Well

Chapter 20: Mother Earth and Footprints in the Sand

Chapter 21: Eric

Chapter 22: Rare Earth Minerals

Chapter 23: Proceed

Chapter 24: The Trek

Chapter 25: The Return

Chapter 26: Morning and Mourning

Chapter 27: Rescue

Chapter 28: The Night

Index of Terms

Acknowledgment

To my ever patient and supportive husband, I am forever grateful that you remind me to proceed with the things that matter the most.

I am very grateful to my parents who chose to give me the right to life and the agency to live it. To my magobious family, thank you for your encouragement, for your kind suggestions and for the memories you create.

Thank you, ReNee, Macy, Janelle and Kayleen. Your help is invaluable! I truly needed your editorial gifts.

Thank you, Cindy Miller for inspiring the world to find better ways to provide much needed sustenance. Your Hope SaC Serves charity is a gift to humanity.

To My Readers, I send my fondest wishes and earnest prayers, that your memories remain intact and that you always possess the will to proceed with the things that matter most.

MagobiousMProductions

Introduction

The world as Emery knew it was destroyed in the nuclear holocaust that plagued the world of Aria’s making. Ruling for ages, the Governess Supreme kept a tight rein on her subjects. Eliminating free will through the Brain-Computer Interface and Hippocampus Manipulation.

Lost in a world filled with war and tribulation, the governing block found it easy to rule the masses without challenge. Keeping the teetering balance of Resource within her control, Aria ordered life, or the disposal of it, without fear of retribution or affliction of conscience.

Even with the employment of her scientific prowess, one subject remained untamed. She was both a hindrance and a marvel to the woman who controlled the DIGS, by stacking a network switch.

Born into a world without a compass or morals, the redheaded Emery, tested the bounds of Aria’s resolve, at every point in her life. In spite of Brain-Computer Interface and governing control, somehow Emery continued to lean upon the teachings of her Grand Nanny for guidance. Fighting at every turn, the restraints placed upon her free agency, she found her God.

Aria regretted not commanding the disappearance of Emery’s nanny, before the separation ceremony. Maybe then she could have remained Supreme.

Prologue

The United States of America collapsed at the beginning of the end. The Union dissolved, as one State after another abandoned the God-given, guiding principles of the Constitution. Trampled under the feet of men and cast aside by questionably elected leaders, the flag bore no name and chaos reigned.

Habitations were created in secluded places by those who commanded Resource. Lording over their subjects were the Governors, Supreme, and Beneath. With their scientific prowess and manipulative technology, they ruled. Professing idealism and salvation of the species, the governors claimed ultimate control over the DIGS Dwellers.

Reigning Supreme and Beneath the Governors claimed that agency was man’s downfall. Controlling with Brain-Computer Interface, (a natural by-product of gaming addiction and nomophobia), they ruled without challenge or recall.

Freedom of religion and free agency, eliminated with one stroke of the pen. Holy places ceased to exist.

Chapter One

THE SCOUT

H e watched from his perch of safety, scanning the horizon for any sign of life. The Deep in Ground Structures (DIGS) of his youth, decimated with one finely tuned strike.

The honed out rock structures that were meant to protect his people from such an event, lay flat and unrecognizable to the man who had once walked in the crevices of its safe hold. Even the steel reinforcements were bent and twisted, some melted to liquid by the intense heat cast by the nuclear holocaust.

In a final attempt to protect the species, the Governors had managed to procure a site that was secluded from the eyes of man. For years they had survived, undetected and free to rule without fear or repercussion. That ended only a few days ago, when the relentless quest to annihilate humanity had finally found its way to their door.

Scanning the horizon again, he saw nothing. Nothing moved, nothing breathed. It was clear that nobody had survived and that the time of his peaceful oblivion had come to an end. Cliff didn’t understand the bother of the three-day trek to scout for nothing, but here he was. Searching, because the Governess Supreme had commanded it, and her bidding was what he did.

Abandoned by his progenitors and his grand nanny at the age of three, he wandered the paths that threaded in and out of rock and steel crevices. These paths led to the marketplace, leading him into the den of thieves and cutthroats where even at three he understood the drive to survive. Cliff remembered gathering bits of discarded clothing in the alleyways and in the deserted bunkers that lined the DIGS.

Every day he repeated the process of hunt and peck, looking for anything that could be used and reused. His life depended upon securing Resource. Trading for survival was the way of this world.

The paths of his youth were now unrecognizable, vanished from his view. What would his future hold? He wondered in silence, remembering the days when he had to be street-wise to survive.

Cliff had not been born into the ruling class of the Governing Block. As an orphan, he should have disappeared along with his wayward parents. But for reasons unknown, the Governess Supreme took pity on him when she brought him into her DIGS, elevating his status and changing his name; wiping any memories that might have remained of the people who gave him life.

It would be his burden to tell her that the DIGS and personal fortress from which she had once ruled, were gone, obliterated by the evil that was bent on human annihilation. Even though the Governor’s DIGS had been fortified with steel and placed in the most secure spot of the habitation, they were also gone.

He questioned his ability to mourn the destruction of this civilization. Knowing that it was not programmed into his Brain-Computer Interface, (BCI), he wondered why he felt the pangs of loss.

The place of his youth destroyed in less than a moment. It was no more. Memories of his upbringing brought a smidgen of gratitude for the woman who allowed him to live within the confines of this once-protected refuge. Although she was not his mother, she was all that he knew of family ties, and he recognized that he owed her some semblance of gratitude, but even that was hard to come by in a world that was commanded by electronic stimuli.

50518.png

Although childless by choice, even the Governess Supreme could not resist the big brown eyes dancing with all the mischief that the world could provide. She was amused by his untethered spirit, finding mirth as she watched the world through his eyes.

Cliff wasn’t the court jester, but the joy that she felt in his presence was unlike anything that she had experienced in all of her generations of life upon this earth. Even when he annoyed her with his constant questioning and willful ways, she was amused.

Mothering was not her gift, or her choice, but with T-counts that were above average, this child held the promise of tomorrow. He was a viable Resource to possess, and she would keep him as long as he suited her purposes.

Grooming him with BCI control, she eliminated any chance of revolt or questioning of her authority. As he grew, his abilities followed, making it easy for the Governess Supreme to trust him to complete all of her tasks with precision.

She placed responsibilities upon him that were never held by another Governor, Supreme or Beneath. He was her right-hand man and could be expected to rule if she ever decided to leave this world behind.

No! She would not do that!

Her own creation, she had sustained the DIGS for generations, far beyond the age of man. With her brilliant manipulations of memories and free will, she controlled the lives and the choices of her subjects. Using her scientific prowess she unleashed the key to eternal youth. This world was hers, and she would not leave it! Not now Not ever!

Even now as she watched it crumble in ruin, she ruled. Creating and perpetuating the species was the charge that she had saddled herself with, and with the Scout, she could do it again. Preserving her eggs for such a time as this was a wise purpose that she hadn’t expected to employ, but she had prepared nonetheless.

Cryonically encapsulated in an airtight tube, she carried the future generation with her. Never leaving the eggs behind, they were always at her side. She called them her blue babies, a nickname of endearment which remained from past generations of people who genuinely wanted children. That nickname was all the nurturing that these frozen embryos would get from her.

Luckily for her and the next generation of her subjects, there remained a viable source to assist with the fertilization. She would wait for the scouting report before she told her assistant that he carried the fate of civilization in his loins.

Carrying the offspring in her womb was not what she had intended, but if there was no one left to incubate the progeny, she would do it as efficiently as possible. Two at a time, boy and girl twins, they would be sorted for viability and T-count. A Petri dish and the tools that she had stored at the rare earth mines, were all that she needed. That and a little friendly persuasion of her adopted progeny.

Where was Esther when she needed her? And what of that red-headed child, if she had survived, she could be the vessel that saved humanity. So what if her hair was red? That too could be sorted out.

The Governess Supreme may have just witnessed the crumbling of her world, but her resolve remained intact. She was the savior of the species, and she believed that she would endure as long as the world continued to spin on its axis.

If the BCI lab and the power to maintain it had been destroyed, she would have to find another way to control the progeny that rested in ice packed capsules, just waiting for her to give them life. She took pleasure in knowing that she had the skills to make it so.

Amid her plotting, she noted a pinching sensation on the left side of her chest. She brushed it aside and tried to search her BCI for Cliff’s scouting report. She tried again, but she came up with nothing. It was clear that all of the communication systems had been completely decimated when the DIGS took a direct hit. She would have to wait for him to deliver the report in person. Waiting patiently or otherwise was not something in which she excelled.

Feeling unusually tired, she sat to consider tomorrow. Calling the dogs to sit on her feet to keep them warm, and ignoring the tightness in her chest, she closed her eyes. Glad that the T-Force serum had preserved these beautiful creatures for more than a dog’s lifetime, she slipped into an unexpected nap.

50511.png

The Scout continued his mission, unaware of his mentor’s plotting. If he had known what she had in mind, he might have taken another path and tried to survive in this world alone.

He walked through the rubble, reminiscent of his youth, looking for Resource or signs of life. He found nothing worth keeping, yet he continued his search, mourning the losses that occupied his vision and his thoughts. These were unusual sensations for a man whose mind, memories and emotions had been electronically manipulated from the time he was a child.

Cliff tried one more time to make a connection with the Governess, but his BCI was powerless. Disappointed that his scouting trip produced nothing except bleak destruction, he began his trek back to the mines. He was careful of his feet, taking a necessary retrace to avoid the debris and mayhem, littered with waste upon the dust-filled track. Retracing his footprints revealed a surprising discovery.

The Scout could see a set of footprints that were not his. Somebody seemed to have followed him to his perch above the DIGS. He was sure that these prints weren’t his, as the soles bore no match. Engraved on the bottom of every DIGS dweller’s shoes was a letter.

The scouts’ sole bore the mark G for Governor. This print bore the U, the mark of a Useful member of the Governing society. The metaphor adopted by the Governess Supreme would be the brand that all of her subjects would wear.

She thought that it was wise to keep the people mindful, that every step that they took was leaving a mark on mother earth. It was a footprint undertone leftover from generations of tree huggers and global warming prognosticators, and it suited her altruistic methods of guilt-driven control.

The magnanimous dogma was twisted to suit the needs of a Governess who delighted in manipulating the memory banks of the hippocampus of her subjects. The people of her world would always know where they stood. Being marked by the letter U or a G left no question of her subjects’ self-worth and her ability to dictate their choices and the outcomes of it.

The Scout was intrigued that this footprint, neatly compressed upon the nuclear fallout dust, clearly bore the letter U, indicating that there must be at least one other survivor of the blast. Why had they not shown themselves? With little Resource and humankind nearing extinction, it was well past time to put aside class and distinction. If not now, then when?

The Scout would look for more signs of life along his way. He had not been able to give his report telepathically, and he knew that she would be waiting and out of sorts if he didn’t hurry.

He almost ran with the good news back to her lair, excited that he had found more than destruction on his quest. Surely the Governess would welcome all survivors as equals?

He was thrilled to know that there was at least one other person who had survived the attack. He couldn’t bear the idea that there was no one left besides him and her. He shuddered as he thought about the schemes that she was already hatching and cringed at the thought of the part that she would command him to play.

If ever Cliff needed a friend, it was now.

Chapter Two

WHITE HOT and BURNT MEMORIES

When the white-hot blast failed to give warning on an air raid pole, or in the human heart; the sirens of retreat remained silent.

T he morning was still and quiet, but her heart was THUNDERING, POUNDING out of her chest, in a terrifying rhythmic beat. She felt it screaming a frantic cry for retreat, RUN! GET AWAY FROM HERE!

Unfamiliar with the sensation that provoked her escape she hesitated, but only for a minute as the hair on her arms began to rise and a shiver traced her backbone with dread. She grabbed her Bug Out Bag (BOB) and left. Without a plan or a guide, she went.

She didn’t know how long she had been wandering in the western desert, but it seemed like forever to her empty stomach and parched throat. Stumbling past cactus and tripping over sand hills had become her daily occupation. Her life consisted of brief moments of remembrance and a lot of forgetting. Some things were best left alone; others remained embedded, like molten lava and lightning glass.

She trembled at the recurring nightmare that was her reality. Months of political rhetoric had unleashed the unthinkable, and peace was not found upon the earth.

Trampled under the feet of its questionably elected leaders, the flag bore no name. The earth’s people had long neglected to exercise the right to vote, leaving the responsibility up to those who promoted relative morality. The ability to discern the difference between truth and permissive indulgence apathetically ignored.

Governors ruled the world by altruistic pretense, touting their exclusive ability to secure the survival of the species. They reigned without challenge or recall.

Emery would not know of God. Not from this place. There were still some believers of a higher power, but they slipped into exile, taking refuge in abandoned cities left barren from wars and rumors of wars. Her progenitors were part of an alliance who scoffed at the notion of deity. Their birthright crowned them chief players in this societal decay, which encouraged them to be