The Observer

By Eduardo Periotto

On a winter morning, an engineer invites his three children to descend with him into a deep diamond mine. On this trip, the youngest son finds a black-stained crystal. In adulthood, he donates his find to a city museum where it remains forgotten in a drawer for a century, gathering dust among many other mineral samples.

Professor Adam Chonsp is a renowned astrobiologist who has been searching for evidence of life beyond Earth for decades. One day when he stops by the London History Museum to collect samples of asteroids rich in organic compounds that have recently arrived from Japan, he learns that someone with his maternal surname once donated a rare crystal filled with fossilized genetic memories to the museum. Curious, he finds where the gem is kept, opens the dusty drawer, and places the mysterious crystal in his pocket. After returning to the university, Chonsp embarks on a determined quest to analyze the crystal and learn more without any idea that he is about to make an amazing discovery that leads him down a path he never expected.

In this exciting science fiction adventure, an astrobiologist and his students study an ancient crystal that may just hold the key to uncovering the mysteries of the universe.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse UK
• Release date: May 22, 2022
• ISBN: 9781665597869

Book preview

© 2022 Eduardo Periotto. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or

transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse  05/16/2022

ISBN: 978-1-6655-9787-6 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-6655-9788-3 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-6655-9786-9 (e)

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.

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.

To my wife

Special thanks to my beloved wife, Nelia Periotto, a woman with a sweet smile, a kind mother, an understanding wife over the years I spent writing The Observer. I love you, eternal flower of my eyes.

To my sons

To my eternal two boys and best friends, Isaac and Gabriel, my everlasting gratitude for being such good sons.

To my granddaughter

My sweet Maeve Grace Periotto-Boar, you are the light of my eyes. Remember that the starlight will always shine.

CONTENTS

Presentation

Preface

1.    A Hundred Years Of Memories

2.    Doctoral Thesis: Clay Cradles Professor Adam Chonsp

3.    Laboratory

4.    Adam, Maria Celeste, Joshua, Deo, And Parsec The Toy Robot.

5.    Two Apple Trees

6.    A Host Of Memories

7.    Adam And Maria Celeste Open Their Doors To Dr Fermi

8.    Three Boys

9.    Chess Game

10.  Salmon With Oats And Backyard Herbs

11.  Saturday Lunch

12.  Saturday Night

13.  Game Night

14.  Looking For A Crystal

15.  Red Phone Box

16.  Quantum Biology Craft

17.  The Baby Tooth

18.  Tuesday

19.  Joshua Dies

20.  Wednesday

21.  Thursday

22.  Friday

23.  The Seed Paradigm

24.  Graphene Drop

25.  Zero Hour

26.  Absolute Zero

27.  Fields Of Dreams

28.  Stone Ladder

29.  Labour Pains

30.  The Third Way

31.  Image And Object With Its Own Will

32.  Start The Game

33.  Two Boys

34.  Adam Chonsp’s Memories

35.  Parsec, Where Are You?

36.  Brian, The Alive-And-Dead Cat

37.  The Rain That Washes Away The Sins Of The World

38.  Spring Equinox, Deo, And Angelicus’s Birthday

39.  Whose Time? Of Men Or Of The Stars?

PRESENTATION

Writing is an exercise in voluntary seclusion from which we observe the uncertainties that reside in empty pages. It is the daily craft of the abstract, because when we write, even a simple note, we preserve feelings that under the protection of memory cause the cessation of time. Perhaps this is why books, when left on a shelf, never complain about being forgotten. Books preserve memories in their pages, and then add colour to them, memories of space-time, of many stages where we performed the theatre of reality.

I started to scribble this story, which I now invite you to read, in my early childhood, a time when, playing with the emotions of our imagination, we didn’t realise that reality was approaching, coming to spy on us, until one day, through the use of our consciousness, it revealed to each one of us the person we believed ourselves to be

I heard most of these memories from my father’s mouth as he invited me to look at the stars in the sky from our back garden, patiently waiting for my realisation that, in addition to the sun, myriads of other stars existed.

It was my father, with his calm smile, who planted the seed of observation when I was still small because it was on those nights that I joined the chorus of many other human beings who asked, since the dawn of consciousness.

From what birthplace is born this life, capable of creating self-awareness?

Even today, I wonder about this paradigm, and, looking at the stars, I realise that human consciousness diluted in a finite universe is certainly a quantum fraction of itself, and observing the sky is the intuitive way of seeing the primordial space-time continuum.

Finally, I would like to introduce myself:

I am the younger brother, the fifth child in the family of a steward of the stars and a woman who collected orchids, anthuriums, and violets. My mother sowed the seeds entrusted to her, while on the other hand, my father, after forty-eight laps around the sun, by his own free will, went walking among the acres of star fields where his life and death encountered each other.

It was my father who taught me to look at the stars to understand that there is no death on the universal level. As an adult and as father of my children, I came to understand that to be born, we must die in the lives of our ancestors. We live and die, remembering and forgetting the memories that space-time creates.

I have never stopped looking at the sky, which, in its perpetual silence, continues to reveal.

Stars will always drip light, watering life so that the conscience of men can feel eternal. By the principles of nature, we are ashes of stars, ashes of memories that, under the protection of the eternal, rain from heaven.

PREFACE

ENCOUNTERS WITH HISTORY

One winter morning, an engineer invited his three children to descend into a deep diamond mine. On this trip, a boy would find a black-stained crystal filled with fossilised genetic memories, a crystalline stone that for a century would remain forgotten in a museum drawer.

The four entered the elevator, which, in the half-light, descended into deep darkness. The younger son, then, feeling the temperature rise, almost burst into tears, until the elevator rekindled its light.

They reached the bottom of the mine. The door opened, and the four left the elevator, walking apprehensively through the long tunnels that, for millennia, had remained awash with silence and darkness. However, the younger son, observing there were crystals embedded in the walls, stayed behind to collect one of these precious stones. Terrified and unable to see his own shadow, he nearly wet his pants. Then, after putting the crystal in his pocket, he ran ahead into the darkness to his father, who was pointing to the entrance of a huge gallery, and announced:

— We’re here.

The lights of the lanterns illuminated gigantic columns of coloured crystals and the three boys ran through the gallery forgetting their fear, while time, absolute master, and owner of all clocks, continued to spy on them.

At noon, after leading the boys down a new passageway, the father ordered everyone to turn off their flashlights. The younger son took advantage of the absolute darkness to make sure he still had his gemstone in his pocket, until suddenly, the light of another elevator shaft appeared.

The boys sighed in relief that they had trusted and followed their father, the only one in the group who knew the way back home. Smiling, the three brothers returned to the surface, emerging into the dull light of that winter day but before they returned home, took time to take a photograph together.

Time passed, and that curious boy, later in adulthood, donated his precious stone to the city museum, where it remained forgotten for a hundred years, gathering dust among so many other mineral samples.

Time, which can never be buried, one day invited that boy into existence. It also invited him to eventually die but left memories for his many descendants, boys, and girls who, even today, tell the stories of their great-grandfather.

The time of clocks never moves backwards; one hundred years later, it returned to enchant an astrobiologist known as Professor Adam Chonsp. One Thursday, he decided to stop by the London History Museum to collect some samples of asteroids rich in organic compounds, which had recently arrived from Japan.

1

A HUNDRED YEARS OF MEMORIES

Chon, as he was called by his undergraduate astrobiology students, entered the museum, and accessed the mineral sample data; to his surprise, he discovered that someone with his maternal surname had donated a centuries-old crystal. Curious, he found where the gem was kept. He entered the room at the end of the hall, opened a dusty drawer, and soon marvelled at the dodecahedral-shaped crystal with black flecks in the centre. Surprised, he looked at the object against the light. He said:

— I’m sure I’ve seen these black spots in other crystalline lattices.

Hearing the ring of a distant bell, Chon, in a hurry to get to the university, gathered up the rock samples of asteroids he’d been looking for. He wondered why this crystal was given away if it had no commercial value.

He left the museum and, took the bus to the university; on the way, he removed the crystal from his pocket, and examined the black stains in the centre of the gem.

— Certainly, they’re just some isolated carbon atoms, nothing more than that.

Still intrigued, he felt his smartwatch vibrating on his wrist and read his wife’s message.

— Good morning, Adam! I am leaving to drop the boys off at school. See you later this afternoon.

He got off the bus, entered the university, and hurried down a long corridor. Once in his laboratory, he took the crystal from his pocket and, turned on the analysis sensor. While waiting for the results, he briefly reviewed the upcoming class.

The warning on the sensor interrupted his silence; something unusual had been found in the black stains at the centre of the crystal. Chon’s eyes widened and, he asked himself.

—I suspected that the stains were not just carbon atoms.

To his astonishment, the sensor had detected genetic memories decoded in the centre of the crystalline sample; ecstatic, he understood that he had just found something spectacular. During Professor Chonsp’s life, he had analysed hundreds of samples taken from comets and asteroids; finally, right before his eyes was a fossilised DNA molecule with enough genetic memories to support the development of microorganisms.

The Elizabeth Tower bell indicated nine o’clock, and he picked up the crystal.

— I must not be late for class.

Breathing fast, he turned off the sensor and put the crystal in the pocket of his lab coat. He left the laboratory, went down along the side of the cafeteria, opened the classroom door, and greeted the student who entered right before him.

— Good morning, Elabella. Good to see you so ready for today’s class.

— Good morning, Chon. Is everything okay? she asked, noticing the professor’s face looked pale.

Without commenting, he went to his desk and watched the other students as they arrived in the classroom. He was still baffled by his discovery. In need of answers, he decided against discussing the subject previously prepared for the class, concerning his latest postdoctoral thesis, titled Clay Cradles in which he argued that organic life is born from memories that rain down from the sky.

2

DOCTORAL THESIS: CLAY CRADLES

PROFESSOR ADAM CHONSP

Observing one of the chairs was empty, Chon looked at the students, took a breath, and began the lesson.

— Ladies and gentlemen, good morning. The universe that shelters us is enclosed in a paradigm of cause and possible effects. Because 13.8 billion years ago, it gave rise to a furnace from which memories dripped in quantum doses, and whose ashes still rain from the sky.

The students, who were usually quite boisterous, were silent, and Chon, walking towards the centre of the classroom, continued speaking.

— However, matter and a sense of reality are sustained only if there is an observer who contemplates such factors. A more than fair reason why, four billion years ago, with the sun as a witness, genetic memories minted in clay awoke organic life, through the baptism of water and the talent of multiplication. Memories that mould faces in clay to this day.

There was another silence, and Chon, pensive, continued his class.

— Life is the echo of quantum particles that vibrate in earthen vessels and awaken consciousness. But never forget that the essence of what we are made of springs from the atomic ashes that are born from the stars.

As he continued, he began to hear subtle murmurs in the classroom and footsteps echoing in the hallway. When the door opened, he couldn’t resist.

— Welcome, Mr. Boltzmann. We missed you.

The young man entered the classroom and heard the teacher ask:

— Before you sit down, I would like to ask you a question.

Immediately, the student replied:

— Yes, Professor. How can I help you?

His colleagues, still smiling, heard the master ask:

— Please tell us, what is the proportional energy contained in the vacuum of a single hydrogen atom?

Realising that his colleagues were looking at him, the young man replied jokingly:

— Would you believe, that’s exactly what I was trying to figure out before entering this classroom.

His colleagues laughed loudly before quietening again.

Again, silence. Boltzmann, standing beside Elabella’s chair, continued:

— The energy required to keep a single hydrogen atom stable is proportionally greater than all the energy contained in the sum of the galaxies in a twenty billion light-year cosmic arc.

The room was silent, and Chon asked:

— Bigger by what proportion, please?

— By a trillion times, Professor.

His colleagues listened to the short dialogue, and Chon smiled.

— Correct, Mr. Boltzmann. And yet the hydrogen atom remains as empty as the universe itself.

The student went to his seat, and Elabella asked:

— Professor, what about the effect paradigm?

Chon, again in the centre of the room, took a deep breath.

— My dear friends, the effect paradigm still manifests itself. It is the echo of a primordial particle which, 13.8 billion years after jumping out of the quantum vacuum, inflated a finite dodecahedral bubble that we call the universe.

After a short silence, another student asked:

— And when did the first hydrogen atoms appear?

— Good question, Mr Cavendish. Hydrogen atoms formed in the universe about 380,000 years after the Big Bang event.

The murmurs started to grow in the room, and another student asked:

— What about the stars? When were they born?

Smiling, the professor replied:

— Thank you, Ms. Mitchell. The stars formed a billion years after the Big Bang event.

His answer made the students even more uneasy. Another student raised her hand.

— Professor, is it possible to see the cosmic scar of the universe’s birth?

Smiling at the intelligent question and nodding in agreement, Chon replied:

— Yes, Ms. Herschel. The universe’s birth scar is still visible today and can be observed via microwaves.

The murmurs continued to grow, and Chon, happy to have piqued his students’ curiosity, continued.

— In the cradle of stars, ladies, and gentlemen, lie the memories of matter, organic life, and the consciousness that it can create.

The room stirred, and another student asked:

— Professor, based on your model of reminiscence of memories, can we say that the origin of atomic matter, as well as of life itself, has a quantum origin?

Chon, nodding his head in the affirmative, replied:

— Correct, Mr. Dirac. However, organic life is recent when compared to the genesis of the universe.

Boltzmann raised his hand, and asked

— Professor, if we can define what life is, then we can create mathematical patterns that describe it, can’t we?

— Yes, Mr. Boltzmann. The laws that describe the nature of life are the same ones that describe how the stars shine or how raindrops fall from the sky. Organic life is just one of the possibilities of the entropic memory contained in atomic matter, a perfect act from the theatre of thermodynamics.

There was silence in the room, and Chon, noticing that his students were staring at him, challenged them.

— How long will we remain like frightened children with our fragile philosophies? How long will our conscience be numb, believing that we are not capable of understanding what the motherhood of the universe is? How long until we understand life itself?

Everyone remained silent. Elabella remembered a young scientist who once stayed at her grandfather’s house, and asked:

— What about the existence of life outside Earth?

The professor was waiting for this question.

— Wherever there is water, organic compounds, and heat sources, there will always be the possibility of life in the fields of this cosmic panspermia that shelters us.

Chon reached into his pocket, and removed the crystal; noticing the black spot in the centre of the gem, thought to himself:

— What will these genetic sequences in the centre of the crystal reveal to me?

A bell rang in the distance, but the professor suddenly felt a horrible malaise come over him; he found it difficult to breathe. He leaned on the table. Confused, he sat in his chair, drank a sip of water, and eventually caught his breath, not noticing that Elabella was looking at him with concern. He heard another student ask:

— Professor, where are the cradles of organic life?

Chon, took a long breath, and then replied:

— Clay cribs, Mr. Oparin. Mineral colloids that, diluted in water, were the perfect moulds for the amino acids that fell in showers of comets to produce primordial genetic material, with the capacity for self-replication. Celestial memories that found the fertile earth in clay were able to conceive of life.

Absolute silence. The restless students heard the master again.

— In clay cribs, under the baptism of water and with the sun as a witness 3.8 billion years ago, the first seeds of life sprouted on this simple blue-and-white planet.

The students began talking among themselves, and Chon, realising that he had planted enough thunderstorms in the minds of his listeners, quoted the words of Sir Isaac Newton:

— Ladies and gentlemen, what we know is just a drop, and what we ignore is an ocean.

— When I was little, my grandmother insisted on a thesis that man had come from clay. Now I realise she was not as crazy as I thought, Elabella said, laughing.

Laughter spread through the classroom, and Chon, also smiling, replied:

— Life, my dear Elabella, which seems to us such private property, is tenuous and was not given to us to be eternal. As such, it is born and moves on to what we know as death. Only our memories, which do not know the meaning of the word die, are eternal.

The students became agitated; the class was ending, and Chon, a long-time friend of Elabella’s grandfather, remembered:

— By the way, my wife and I were invited to a reception tomorrow at your grandfather’s house. He told me he is hosting a former student, a doctor and researcher who has arrived from Geneva.

Elabella, collecting her pen and her notebook, replied:

— His name is Dr Fermi Sheldon. I will be at the reception too.

Then the teacher got up and declared:

— That’s the end of the presentation. By the way, there will be no class next week, but I will be in my lab in case you need to talk to me.

When Chon passed by Elabella, she said:

— I’m excited about Grandfather’s meeting tomorrow night. Get ready, because you and Maria Celeste will be delighted with the surprises that Grandpa and Dr Fermi are organising.

Chon smiled, opened the door, and announcing loudly:

— Ladies and gentlemen. When we look at the sky, we see the stars as unique points of light. However, never ignore the ocean of information contained therein. Good afternoon, everyone.

3

LABORATORY

Chon went into the canteen, and ordered a cappuccino while watching the students leave the classroom, he overheard another professor ask:

— Excuse me. Does anyone have an extra pen I can borrow?

The students hid their smiles. Elabella answered the teacher, and after he disappeared, she wrote some final notes in her notebook, smiling as she said:

— I’ve just lost my pen.

Professor Satyendra Boson, who had a PhD in astrophysics, disappeared down the hall, and Chon smiled at the scene. Then returned to his laboratory, took the crystal from his pocket, and turned on the analysis sensor again. As he sipped his cappuccino, he said to himself:

— It’s one o’clock already. The day went by quickly.

He remembered promising his wife and children that he would come home by mid-afternoon and sent a voice message:

— Maria Celeste, flower of my eyes. I’ll be busy in the lab until late afternoon, as I suspect I’ve found the eggshells of life I’ve been looking for. Ask the boys to forgive me. Love you.

As he sent his message, the sensor recognised the black spots on the crystal as symmetrical sequences of carbon nanospheres, which startled the professor.

— I knew I’d seen this before. These black spots only occur when carbon atoms stain a crystal lattice. There are fossilised DNA macromolecules at the centre of this crystal.

Professor Chonsp, who had been looking for evidence of organic life outside planet Earth for years, was restless and decided to date the genetic material with carbon 14. He thought about the physical discomfort, he had felt in the classroom and mused:

— It was just a hypoglycaemic attack. I’ll be fine.

The hours passed unnoticed, immersed in research as he was and revising notes from earlier work when he heard the tone signal, alerting him that the dating process was complete. He approached the sensor, and when he read the data, his eyes grew wide in surprise:

— Unbelievable. The fossil DNA is 4 billion years old.

In astonishment, he saw the three-dimensional drawing of a perfect spiral of DNA appearing on the sensor screen:

— The golden ratio, the Fibonacci sequence in the seeds of organic life that rained down from the sky 4 billion years ago.

The discovery was impressive, and Chon, now hungry, put the crystal in his pocket, left the laboratory, went to the cafeteria, and saw a colleague sitting alone. He asked:

— Aren’t you going to order anything? It will be closing soon.

The man, focused on his calculations, replied:

— No, thank you. Would you have a pen to lend me?

Chon couldn’t resist a smile:

— Unfortunately, I do not, as you are in the habit of not returning the pens you borrow, my friend.

Professor Satyendra Boson looked up and saw his friend smiling:

— Chon, good to see you; please sit down.

The waitress approached the table as the two friends sat relaxing.

— Good evening, professors. What would you like to order?

Chon responded immediately:

— For me, a tuna salad sandwich. For this gentleman, a box of pens, please.

The waitress responded with a smile while taking the order:

— Sorry, but we don’t sell pens here.

Satyendra then replied:

— I don’t want anything, thanks. As for the pen, I just saw one in my colleague’s coat pocket.

The waitress left the table, and Chon, still smiling, turned to his friend:

— I will lend you my pen, but first I want to show you something I found at the Natural History Museum this morning.

Satyendra looked at the dodecahedral shape of the crystal and heard Chon ask:

— How is everyone at home?

Satyendra, still enchanted by the crystal, replied:

— All good. Barbara said she would call Maria Celeste to arrange a dinner this weekend.

— Sounds great. Can I have my crystal back?

Satyendra smiled and said:

— As long as you lend me your pen.

Chon took his crystal back and complied with his friend’s request:

— Bye-bye pen, he said cynically. One more gone.

The colleagues got up from the table, shook hands, and left the canteen. Satyendra headed for the parking lot, and Chon went back to the lab. Just as he sat down, he felt his smartwatch vibrating on his wrist:

— Hello, Maria Celeste. You’ll never believe this. I am sure I have found what I was looking for. Sorry I’m so late.

His wife, remembering that her husband had foreseen this possibility in one of his theses, complained:

— Adam, you’ve been working, teaching classes, and doing research for the last twelve hours. Time for you to come home.

The voice of Deo, his younger son, could be heard in the background, complaining to his father:

— Dad, come home soon. We’ve been waiting ages for you. Will you bring me a present? I don’t feel well.

With a sigh, Chon then turned off the equipment, put the crystal in his pocket, turned off the lights, and left the lab. Time to go home to his wife and two children, who always looked forward to his arrival, although his work often caused him to neglect them although they were always there for him. He left the university quickly, hailed a cab, and thought to himself:

— It was an intense day. But time to go home.

The cab crossed Euston Avenue, and Chon watched the wind sweep the dry leaves along Regent Park, remembering the malaise he had experienced earlier.

— I’d better say nothing, he thought. Maria Celeste will start watching my every step. Better to say nothing and not worry her.

Thinking of what he’d discovered, he watched the moon shine among the park’s centuries-old oak trees. The cab turned the corner and disappeared. His small son was watching from the bedroom window, and Chon smiled as he thought:

— I’m back in time to put Deo to bed.

The cabbie pulled up to the door; Chon paid him and got out. As he ran up his drive in the cold night, he pressed a button on his smartwatch and ordered to his home computer:

— Homer, open the door to the house.

4

ADAM, MARIA CELESTE, JOSHUA,

DEO, AND PARSEC THE TOY ROBOT.

Chon entered the house and saw Maria Celeste descending the stairs; he, embraced his wife and said:

— How is it possible? You are more beautiful with each passing day.

Accepting his embrace, she smiled as she said:

— What took you so long to get home? You are cold; take off your coat and put on a sweater to warm you up.

Chon, remembering what his young son had said on the phone earlier:

— How’s Deo?

— He’s fine. The boys miss you. While you were working, Deo came to keep me company, but it’s too late for them to still be awake. Let’s go into the kitchen, I’ll make some Camomile tea, she said, still with her arms around him.

Chon took off his coat and held his wife around the waist:

— The house is nice and warm. With a twinkle in his eye, he smiled and said:

— But I missed the warmth of your body.

— Thanks for the beautiful message, but I only heard it when I left the school on my way home, she said as she kissed her husband.

Smelling her discreet perfume, Chon said:

— I’m sorry, I don’t like breaking my promises. Sorry I didn’t come home earlier this afternoon, but I found something very important for my research today, and I just had to stay in the lab.

They walked into the kitchen still with their arms around each other. Chon put his lab coat on the back of his chair, and they sat at the table. Noticing a distant look in her husband’s eyes, Maria Celeste asked:

— Apart from your discovery, did anything else happen?

Chon remembered the discomfort he felt in the classroom:

— I’m fine, just tired. By the way, I met with Professor Satyendra. Looks like Barbara is going to call to arrange a dinner.

She poured him camomile tea, put down toast and white cheese, and asked again:

— Any more news?

He put his hand on hers and replied:

— Yes. Dr Titus, my student Elabella’s grandfather, called and asked us to host a young scientist doctor who is arriving from Geneva.

— I remember you mentioned something about that. Any special reason?

Adam sipped his tea and said:

— I’m going to need a good mathematician to help me proofread my new thesis. Titus asked if we could meet him tomorrow, Friday, after the reception at his house.

— I don’t see any problem. I will organise the guest room tomorrow when I get home from school. As for dinner, I’ll call Barbara and suggest we arrange it for this Saturday.

A strange silence descended, and Maria Celeste, noticing the distant look again in her husband’s eyes, repeated her previous question:

— Adam, is everything okay?

He turned away from her and replied:

— Please stop worrying about me. I’m fine, just tired.

The chime clock in the living room rang nine times, and Maria Celeste, feeling as if he was hiding something, heard her husband say:

— This morning, after stopping by the Natural History Museum in London, I discovered that many years ago, one of my ancestors donated this rare crystal. Then, after analysis in my lab, I found that at its centre, there was enough DNA with genetic memories for organic life to have been born from it.

Maria Celeste took Adam’s hands again.

— So, you finally found what you were looking for?

He nodded.

— Yes, I think I found an eggshell from which organic life was born.

— It’s such a beautiful crystal. While you finish eating, I’m going upstairs to see if the boys are warm enough. If you have laundry, leave it in the basket.

Maria Celeste left the kitchen and stared at the front door of the house, as she thought to herself:

— Why do I have such a strange feeling?

As she climbed the stairs, she could see a strip of light leaking out from under the children’s bedroom door. She walked down the hall, opened the door, and said sharply:

— Joshua and Deo, no more games; you must go to school early tomorrow.

There was no reply, and seeing a light on under the little boy’s bed, she bent down, saw the toy robot still on, and heard Deo say:

— Parsec, turn off this game now. Didn’t you hear Mum say we have to go to school early tomorrow?

Parsec ran out and jumped into the toy box. His mother, seeing Joshua already in deep sleep, covered Deo with his quilt and whispered:

— Good night my son. Sweet dreams.

Back in the couple’s room, Maria Celeste watched her husband shifting around as he slept in bed. Curious, she moved closer and heard him muttering audibly:

— Light that springs from darkness. Memories that do not know death.

Maria Celeste remembered that they were invited to a reception by Dr Titus, the family doctor; she whispered:

— This is not the first time I’ve heard him uttering these phrases. Adam, it’s time for us to ask for help with what has been echoing from the fields of your dreams.

5

TWO APPLE TREES

Sunlight streamed across the roof of the house, heralding the arrival of Friday. Maria Celeste heard the clock chime in the living room and opened her eyes while Chon, curled up in bed, was still dreaming. Feeling the heat of his body, she yawned and said:

— I love you, Adam Chonsp.

She jumped out of bed and went into the bathroom; looking at herself in the mirror and remembering her husband’s words the night before, she thought to herself:

— Light in darkness, memories that do not know the meaning of death; what do your dreams mean?

She left the bathroom, put on her robe, and went to the boys’ room, where her little son was still sleeping:

— Deo, still in bed, honey? Wake up, my angel; we cannot be late for school.

No response, she watched Joshua returning from the bathroom, his hair neatly combed. He replied in his brother’s place:

— Good morning, Mum. Go on down to breakfast, and I’ll wake him up.

His mother closed the bedroom door, and Joshua realised that his navigation system had been on all night. It didn’t take him long to realise what had happened:

— Deo, this will be the last time you and Parsec invade my game over the night.

Back in the master bedroom, Maria Celeste saw her husband was still in a deep sleep and said:

— That’s weird; Adam and Deo are sleeping in the same position.

She thoughtfully left a glass of water beside the bed, dressed, and left the room; as she went downstairs, she called to her children:

— Boys, come on. We can’t be late for school.

Irritated by his brother’s invasion, Joshua opened his wardrobe, gathered up one of Deo’s old school uniforms, and approached the bed, counting aloud:

— One, two, and three.

With no response, he tore his brother’s quilt off and, shouted:

— Wake up, kiddo.

Deo woke up confused and saw Joshua with his arms outstretched, handing him his clothes. He sat on the bed and replied:

— Good morning, Joshua.

Without answering his younger brother, Joshua left the room, and Deo, holding the clothes he was given, ran to the bathroom, saying:

— I need a pee. Please wait just a little longer.

He relieved himself, washed his face, and dressed; feeling a little uncomfortable in his tight clothes, he left the room and went downstairs. Joshua smiled and said:

— Deo, Mum needs to get to school early. If you slow us down, I’ll shave your head bald.

Still sleepy, Deo drank his mug of milk, opened his eyes wide, and left the kitchen; he went upstairs, calling:

— Parsec, where are you?

Aton, the electric vehicle left its garage and met Deo at the top of the stairs. Joshua complained loudly:

— I give up, Mum. This kid is a danger to humanity.

Maria Celeste left the laundry, went upstairs, and saw Deo going back into the room, shouting at the top of his voice:

— Parsec! Come on, where are you, please?

The robot, which had jumped into the toy box last night, appeared from behind Joshua’s computer, and outside the bedroom door, his mother heard Deo complain:

— Parsec, you, crazy tin head. Mum has been in a hurry since last night.

She picked up the robot with one hand and put the other on Deo’s shoulder, complaining:

— Please keep your voice down or you’ll wake your father.

The boy quieted down and followed his mother. They descended the stairs, left the house, and ran to the vehicle, where Joshua was waiting for them. The EV unlocked itself automatically, and the vehicle’s guidance system said:

— Good morning, Maria Celeste. Navigation assistance? asked the EV system.

She replied:

— Aton, drop us off at school.

The fully automated vehicle moved silently down the street, around the corner, and around the park; Joshua began to snigger again with his hand over his mouth. His mother noticed and asked:

— What are you smiling about to yourself?

Joshua quickly straightened his face and replied:

— Nothing, Mum. It was nothing.

Aton skirted the park, passed Whitestone Lake, and parked in front of the school, unlocking the EV doors after coming to a halt. Joshua laughed loudly as he left the vehicle, waking Deo, who had been snoozing on the short journey. He was startled and suddenly realised that he had been given an old uniform to wear:

— Joshua, I’ll get you for this.

He started to cry and refused to get out. His mother said:

— Deo, cover yourself with my school raincoat and come downstairs, please.

The boy accepted the offer and muttered angrily to himself:

— He’ll never do that to me again, just wait and see.

The mother took Parsec out from under the seat and said seriously:

— When we get back home, I’ll tell your dad you’ve been playing late into the night. You know he will ground you. Let’s go now.

Deo followed his mother, and walked to the classroom entrance with his mother, who was also his teacher. Deo covered his head with her hood and ran to his desk. Maria Celeste closed the door, turned to her students, and said:

— Good morning boys, and girls. Okay, let’s be seated and start our class.

The laughter and conversations abated, and the teacher smiled when she saw the door latch opening:

— Good morning, Sophia. Any reason for the delay?

The girl, stopped at the teacher’s desk, and replied dramatically:

— Good morning, teacher. Sorry I’m late; I got held up at home.

The teacher, finding the answer amusing, asked:

— Your brother again? How is he?

Sophia noticed that all her classmates were looking at her, and she responded dramatically:

— My brother? Oh, boy; don’t ask. Angelicus has been driving me, Dad, and Mum crazy. Do you know what he did this morning?

— No. What happened, honey?

Fixing her hair, the girl replied:

— Angelicus, that little monster, tried to hit me.

The classmates burst out laughing, and the teacher, unable to hold back her smile, exclaimed:

— But Angelicus is smaller than you are.

Okay, so let’s say we had a fight, Sophia replied, her face flushed. The girl ran to sit down, and the teacher announced:

— Let’s push the chairs together. Today we are going to work in groups.

Immediately, the sharp noise of desks scratching the wooden floor was heard. The teacher finally sat down in her chair and remembering her husband’s words last night, without realising that she was being observed, said to herself:

— Today, during the reception at Dr Titus’ house, I’ll tell him about Chon’s dreams. I feel something is wrong; I’ll bet he can help.

Time, absolute master, and owner of all clocks, continued to pass. The students got on with their activities, and as the teacher, walked around the classroom, waiting for the break signal, she sent a voice message to her husband:

— I am worried. I love you, Adam Chonsp.

Sophia overheard the teacher’s message and said, smiling:

— Aaahh, that’s so sweet, teacher I heard the teacher talking to her boyfriend.

Deo immediately rose, lowered the top of his hoodie, and looked at Sophia:

— Be quiet, big mouth. My mum and dad are married.

Laughter ran through the classroom, and Sophia, embarrassed, lowered her head. The teacher’s face flushed:

— Deo do not be rude to Sophia. Apologise.

The boy replied by covering his head with his hood:

— Mummy, I won’t apologise.

The room was quiet, and Deo, putting his hands over his mouth, stuttered:

— I m-m-m-mean, Teacher, Mum.

The students burst out laughing, the recess bell rang, and the principal appeared at the door, amidst the confusion:

— It’s ten