No Eden without... Hell, Book 2: Peace Keeper

By Danielle Tremblay

David is one of only two applicants to pass the entrance test out of his group of twenty students. He will not begin his training at Eden until he has made a friend of Jonathan, the young man he abused as a teenager. This is the requirement imposed on him by his mentor, Master Greg Arsh.

He discovers in the virtual room and later as a member of the guard why people hesitate to choose this tutor for their training. All Arsh's students must give themselves body and soul. But it seems to David that his master demands much more of him than he asks of most of his students. But David only wants to succeed where most fail.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Danielle Tremblay
• Release date: Jun 6, 2022
• ISBN: 9782924400388

Danielle Tremblay

FRANÇAIS :Danielle Tremblay complète ses études collégiales en informatique au Cégeg de Chicoutimi en 1973. Elle possède également deux attestations d’études collégiales du Cégep de Jonquière, l’une en techniques de la documentation (1984), l’autre en techniques de micro-informatique (1994). De 1984 à 2012, année de sa retraite, elle travaille comme technicienne en bibliothèque pour diverses institutions à Chicoutimi, dont les neuf dernières années au Conseil national de recherches du Canada. Elle a remporté en 1981 le concours littéraire La Plume saguenéenne dans la catégorie science-fiction pour sa nouvelle «Cosmose», le second prix du concours du meilleur texte de trois pages du module des lettres de l’Université du Québec à Chicoutimi en 1988 et le premier prix de ce même concours en 1989 pour «La Lettre d’adieu». En 2011, elle gagne le premier prix du concours littéraire de science-fiction Ascadys avec sa nouvelle «Adam et Ève». L'année suivante, elle publie son premier roman, «Pas de paradis sans... l’enfer» tome 1. Depuis, elle n'a pas cessé d'écrire sous son vrai nom et sous un nom de plume.--------------ENGLISH:Danielle Tremblay completed her college studies in computer science at Cégeg de Chicoutimi in 1973. She also holds two attestations of collegial studies from the Cégep de Jonquière, one in documentation techniques (1984) and the other in microcomputer techniques (1994). From 1984 to 2012, the year of her retirement, she worked as a library technician for various institutions in Chicoutimi, including the last nine years at the National Research Council of Canada. In 1981, she won the literary competition La Plume saguenéenne in the science fiction category for her short story "Cosmose", the second prize in the competition for the best three-page text at the Université du Québec à Chicoutimi in 1988 and the first prize in the same competition in 1989 for "La Lettre d'adieu". In 2011, she won the first prize in the Ascadys science fiction literary competition with her short story "Adam et Ève". The following year, she publishes her first novel, "Pas de paradis sans... l'enfer" volume 1. Since then, she hasn't stopped writing under her real name and a pen name.

Book preview

My name is David Bar-Kokhba. I am eighteen years old. I am six feet tall, I have dark hair and eyes, and I’m in good physical shape. I recently passed the so-called admission test for the Academy of the Community of Planets (C.P.) on Earth, commonly known as Eden.

The C.P. is a powerful community born from the merging of humanitarian agencies and interplanetary security organizations, but also of social, economic and cultural groups on many planets. It has vast territories on these planets where it has acquired the status of sovereign authority. Its mission is similar to that of the founding organizations. One can see it, for example, assisting vulnerable populations during and after cataclysms, famines, pandemics and wars, fighting against oppression, providing governments and often even independent associations with the support they need for the realization of various important projects (literacy of vast populations, exploration of new planets, etc.) and, of course, training in academies like Eden young and old alike for the realization of all these tasks. Over the centuries, it has grown in popularity and has become the supreme authority in what has become a major planetary federation.

Its interventions to help people are often far from easy. You have to be very well prepared. That’s why the C.P. has several academies on all its member planets. These academies, like Eden on Earth, provide technical, scientific, historical and even psychological and political education, as well as physical and practical training, so the students who achieve mastery there are able to intervene effectively, whatever the nature or seriousness of the circumstances.

Ever since I was a child, I have always wanted to become a master of the Community. When I was younger, going to Eden was mainly the best guarantee of an adventurous life. But recently I realized that this was not the main thing. If I didn’t want to help keep or restore peace, save lives, or make a difference in the lives of many people, I might as well become an accountant, as my mother would want me to do. Which is not something that appeals to me at all.

I therefore registered at Eden by choosing a master of studies among of the thirty or so working there in order to take the dreaded admission test. All the more dreaded since Greg Arsh, the master I chose, is considered the most demanding master of Eden and perhaps of all the academies of the Community. But he is also considered one of the best. Those who passed through his virtuoso hands are more successful in their missions than anyone else. His students always seem to be ready for anything. Since they have such a good reputation, they are requested for the most difficult missions. That’s why, despite their exceptional talents and training, more of these students have died or been seriously injured on such missions. Some bad jokers even claim that Greg Arsh trains kamikazes. But what should we do? Send no one on these suicide missions and let the population die? What should he do? Send his students into these hellholes without preparing them?

My mother would have preferred that I choose Master Weak, who trains his students for administrative positions. She doesn’t need to study Eden’s statistics to know that Master Weak’s students run very little risk in their jobs. But what I want to do is to be there for people who need it most, no matter what planet they’re on, even if it means risking my life. That is why I chose Master Arsh.

I was one of twenty applicants that he tested during the admission test, checking our health and assessing our team spirit, our courage, our desire to help, our adaptability, our resourcefulness, our tenacity, as well as several technical skills, such as piloting and spaceships maintenance. To achieve this, he made us face various difficulties and watched us react to them to evaluate us in depth and all our talents from all angles.

At the end of this admission test, just two remains: me and Gao, a young woman with exceptional intelligence, capable of finding solutions to almost any problem. This does not mean that I am as smart as her, far from it, but it seems that Master Arsh has found many qualities in me that can be useful to the Community. I am particularly proud and happy about this. However, at the end, Master Arsh demanded that I make peace with Jonathan Whimp, a young man whom I bullied for a year, when I was almost fifteen and he was eleven. Even though I passed the admission test, I will only be truly recognized as one of his students once Jonny and I become friends.

Although I fear that I will not succeed, I believe that Master Arsh is right to make such demands on me. For if I cannot make peace with Jonny, how can I become a peacekeeper, which is what the masters of the Community of Planets are supposed to be?

Chapter 1: David and Johnathan’s Meeting – Part 1

Before I went to meet Jonathan, as Master Arsh required me to do in order to become one of his students at Eden, I did a little search on Jonny. From what I found out, he is now a handsome fourteen-year-old who has not only grown in size and strength, but also in confidence. He is a member of a high gravity football team and practices several martial arts. His success in both the classroom and in sports is well known in the area where he lives, which got him the attention of girls his age, who find him, and rightly so, very attractive. He is described as a handsome, blond young man with curly, unruly hair, a muscular body, and a fierce gaze that stares down at them from his six-foot height. He must therefore hardly pass unnoticed. All the more so as he still has a core of shyness and vulnerability that would come out at the most unexpected moments. All this contributes to making him irresistible to many.

It is said that he sometimes goes out for a dinner or an evening with one girl or another, but that he does not want to commit to a stable relationship with any of them. This has led to a kind of female competition to win his heart.

Boys his age who knew him years ago remember the little Jonny that everyone made fun of. Jonathan, on the other hand, acts as if that past never existed.

Jonny isn’t the scared little guy he used to be and he seems perfectly happy without me. So, I wonder if it is such a good idea to go back into his life. If I do, isn’t it just to make sure I get into Eden? It is not for his sake anyway. So I feel like a coward for trying to meet him. So much so that I decide to communicate with the one who might be my master, if I can make up to Jonny for what I did to him when he was eleven and I was almost fifteen.

Yes. What do you want, David? asks Master Arsh.

Sir. It’s just that… Jonny… He’s… I think…

David, I don’t have time for this. You tell me what you want or I’m hanging up.

Jonny seems as happy as anyone could be. He’s successful in everything he does and…

Yeah, I know all that. And you still haven’t told me what you want.

I feel like a coward for going back into his life and risking his happiness.

Are you sure it’s only the desire not to harm Jonny that makes you not want to go back into his life, David? Or is it fear of what might happen and what you might lose, perhaps for good, if you don’t get along with him? You must’ve hoped that because of your altruistic arguments, I’d release you from this obligation and admit you without demanding more of you.

I am thinking about these questions and his comment, which I think is quite relevant. I can’t deny that there is some truth in it, but on the other hand, what I said to him was also true.

David. If I asked you to go back to him, it wasn’t just so you could make amends, it was mostly for Jonny.

You mean you think he’ll get something good out of our meeting?

It all depends on how you play your cards. If you do it right, you’ll both win.

Very well, Sir. I’ll go meet him.

Good. Call me or come here after you meet him. I want an update on your relationship.

Yes, Sir.

So, there’s no escaping it. I don’t understand what this meeting will do for Jonny, other than bring back bad memories, but I am not the telepath after all. And Mr. Arsh has years of experience guiding young people with all kinds of backgrounds. I imagine that this is not the first time he has seen a conflict between two young people.

Friday night, after my first week of classes at Eden, I went to Jonny’s house. He lives in a residential double pyramid. I think these buildings look like a diagonally broken cube, the pieces of which have been badly patched together. The one where Jonny’s family lives looks a bit like an hourglass, as the two pieces have been patched together by the tip. Once at the outside door, I take advantage of a resident’s exit to enter. I go upstairs to the apartment where Jonny lives and ring his doorbell. His father answers.

David? Is that you? Come in.

He seems very happy to see me. So, Jonny never told him about the nature of our friendship.

"What are you doing here? I thought you were a student at Eden of… What’s the name of that master?

Greg Arsh. Yes, you’re right, Mr. Whimp. But I was passing by and I’d have liked to meet Jonny. It’s been a long time since we’ve seen each other.

Ah, he probably would’ve liked to talk about the good old days with you, but he’s at his football game.

Liked to talk about the good old days? Nothing is less certain.

Annette, come and see who’s here.

Jonny’s mother pokes her head through the half-open door of a nearby room and when she sees me, her expression changes. She turns pale. She knows. Why would he tell his mother, but not his father? Mr. Whimp, still cheerful, adds, It’s David, Annette, you remember him, right?

Yes, she answers in a tone that doesn’t bode well.

Is something wrong, Annette? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.

Jonny’s mother and I look at each other intensely. I can see all the blame of the whole ugly world in her eyes. And I don’t feel very well all of a sudden, but I keep making eye contact with her as Sir would probably tell me to do. He hates shifty looks, so I look Jonny’s mother’s straight in the eyes. She certainly can’t fail to read in mine that if I miss the good old days, it is not because they bring back fond memories.

He would like to see Jonny again. I told him that…

She approaches with a brisk step. She is tense and looks resentful and angry. I can only imagine how my mother would react if someone had treated me the way I did Jonny and they showed up in my life several years later.

What do you want from him? Why did you come back here? Don’t you think you’ve done enough already?

I feel like running away or begging for forgiveness. I don’t know what to say or do.

But, come on, Annette! Why do you talk to David like that?

She has excellent reasons for not wanting to see me again, Mr. Whimp. Obviously, Jonny hasn’t told you anything, so I won’t either.

Get out of here! Leave us alone. Everything’s going great for Jonny since you’ve been out of his life. Don’t mess it up.

But will someone explain to me what’s going on here? insists Mr. Whimp.

I don’t want to hurt Jonathan, Ma’am. On the contrary. I’d like to find a way to make it up to him.

The best way is to leave and never set foot in this house again, she replies harshly.

I’m leaving.

I am getting out, but I don’t intend to never come back. Jonny’s at his football game, his father said. I know he’s playing on a field with accentuated gravity. There can’t be many of those around. So, I ask the Universal Informer where such a field can be found nearby and if a game is to be held there tonight. I quickly find the place and take the first astrobus that passes by to get there.

I sit in the bleachers with the two to three hundred people there. It is not a playoff match, just a regular game in the series involving local teams. But the atmosphere is good. And there’s a nice row of young women a few rows in front of me, screaming whenever a Black Sheep player scores a goal or even makes a nice pass.

I try to find Jonny, but all I saw of him was a bad picture taken by the Universal Informant from a tridi recording of an interview of his football team at last year’s finals. Since Jonny was standing behind other members of his team, this poorly enlarged image gave me a very poor idea of what he might look like now and no idea of his current appearance.

I wait for the game to end and make my way to the exit. I watch the whole crowd and the players leave the field, one after the other. When I don’t see anyone leave for more than five minutes, I think I missed Jonny’s departure. He must have walked by and I didn’t recognize him. Then I see him. It almost comes as a shock to see him so tall and so … manly. He has changed so much! A girl is performing a kind of seduction ritual in front of him. He laughs, amused by her little maneuver. Then he turns his head in my direction and sees me.

It looks like the projector has jammed or the pause button has been pressed. Jonny has so perfectly stopped moving that even his facial features have frozen. My heart is beating like a crazy drum. He is beautiful. Everyone must want to be his friend or his lover.

The girl finally realized that something was wrong. She looks in the same direction as Jonny and sees me. She recognizes me. She must have seen me on tridi following my successful Eden admission test, when reporters came to interview Gao and me, trying to pry information out of us about the test and asking why there were only two students left from Greg Arsh’s group.

Jonny and I are still looking at each other, as motionless as the air in the eye of the tornado. He turns his head toward the young woman. He must have told her to leave because she is going away.

Then I approach and stop two steps from him. He has his hands in his jacket pockets and is still staring at me, but I can see in his eyes that he is turning back the clock. He looks at me without seeing me. I wait for him to come back here and now.

Come, he says to me.

I follow him without saying anything. We go up in an astrobus. When I understand where he takes me, I hesitate to go along with him. I am crossed by unstoppable shivers. We are back where I took him on his twelfth birthday, shortly before his family moved away and I couldn’t see him anymore. This is where I cruelly humiliated him. Everyone laughed at him afterwards because of what I had asked him to do, until he moved away.

He walks to the center of the public playground and activity area and stops at the exact spot where things happened over three years ago, then he turns to stare at me. With fear twisting my bowels, I walk over to where he once stood.

The public square is full of people who have come here for all sorts of reasons. A concert is going to be held later and people are already arriving, probably in the hope of getting the best seats. Kids are having fun on the playground and on the merry-go-round. Teens are playing crazy ball or competing on their skateboards. Young women seem to be looking for the hottest male around. They point to one guy or another, joking and laughing.

I haven’t said a word since we met outside the sports field and I don’t know what else I could say other than forgive me; but that would be so trite and easy, far too easy. I am afraid that the slightest word would disturb this strange and fragile balance of power that has been established between Jonny and me.

Jonny…

Don’t call me that. Only my friends call me Jonny.

Jonathan. Is there anything I can do to help you forget the past?

Yes, there is. Leave and never come back.

The same words as his mother. What would his father say if he knew? Jonny could ask me to do anything to make me pay for this year of abuse I put him through, but he just tells me to go away.

I know it’s too easy, but I want to tell you I’m sorry.

He looks at me with a smile full of contempt. I swallow my excess saliva and, pointing to the center of the square where we were a few moments before, I ask him, Why didn’t you do it? Why didn’t you ask me to do it?

And bring me down to your level? Go away, David.

Why does it seem to me that there is sadness in his voice?

Why are you here, David? For almost four years I haven’t heard from you. And then, suddenly, you show up. What made you come to see me?

I told him the truth, that Master Arsh had demanded it on pain of dismissal.

So, you’re still acting for David Bar-Kokhba, only thinking of your own interest, your personal well-being. You’re still the same. Nothing changed.

Jonny … hey, sorry, Jonathan! You’re wrong to think that way. I really want to make it up to you.

Go away now. I’ll tell your master that I’ve forgiven you. You can carry on with your training there with him. And I can go on with my life in peace.

He won’t believe you. He’ll know that you’re lying to him.

How could he know? If I tell him that I have forgiven you, he’ll be forced to admit you.

Believe me, he will know.

I don’t know what else to tell him without telling him about my new master’s telepathy, but Jonny, no fool, draws the right conclusion.

It is claimed that he is a telepath. So he really is, huh? Is that it?

I don’t answer anything. I don’t say yes or no. He starts to laugh.

It must be something to have a telepath as one’s master, someone who can read your mind and heart. I’m not sure I’d like that. How could he choose you knowing what you did to me?

As you said so well, he knows what’s in our hearts. He knows that I really regret what I did.

So, there’s nothing I can do for you.

Ask me whatever you want, do whatever you want, but forgive me.

Tears well up in my eyes. Jonny looks away.

Do you really want to get into Eden that badly? Nothing would be too hard for you to get it, right?

It’s not only that. You don’t understand, Jonathan. I mean it. I’m sorry enough to find the courage to accept anything you might ask or do to me.

But not enough to leave. What if I couldn’t forgive you? What if I really can’t?

A young woman I don’t know approaches me and asks if I am the one who was admitted to Eden by Greg Arsh. I answer, no. I am not at all sure I’ll be admitted, so I am not lying. Meanwhile, Jonny walked away. I run up behind him and put a hand on his arm to hold him back. He grabs my wrist and pulls my hand away, not violently, but firmly. He is strong, stronger than me, and he doesn’t want me to touch him.

All sorts of crazy, dramatic images run through my head. I see myself throwing myself on my knees and groveling at his feet, becoming his subservient factotum and treating him like slaves do their masters for years or visiting him all my life on his birthday to give him a friendly gift and a card filled with requests for forgiveness and offers of friendship. I hurry past him and get in his way. He stops. He shoves his hands back in his pockets, turns his back to me and looks around at what’s going on and all these people having fun.

I was just a kid, says Jonny.

I know you were. I’m so sorry, I swear.

I was afraid of what you might do to my family. There wasn’t a day that year that I wasn’t scared, not a night that I didn’t have nightmares waking me up, sweating and crying. My mother came to comfort me. Then one day she asked me what was going on. I told her. I didn’t want her to tell Dad. I was afraid he’d come after you and then you’d want to get even. Without telling my father about it, she managed, after months of trying, to convince him to go live somewhere else.

I went to your house earlier, I said.

What?

He turns around and grabs me by my jacket. He looks like he’s ready to hit me. I don’t make a move to protect myself. He lets go of me so suddenly that I am thrown off balance and almost fall.

I didn’t say anything. I just asked to see you. Your father was happy to see me, but not your mother. She told me to leave and not to come back. I went out. That’s all that happened, I assure you.

Dad will understand that something was wrong and he will question Mommy. I’d rather he didn’t know. Just by being here, you’re messing up my life again. Get the hell out of my life!

All right, Jonny. I’ll go. I didn’t come here to get you in trouble.

I am leaving knowing that this means the end of my training with Master Arsh and probably even my training at Eden, because I probably won’t be able to be accepted by another master. As a result, I am ending my career as well.

~.~.~

Jonny doesn’t hold me back, so I go home and go on with my classes until the following Friday, figuring that it will be at least that much learned and that should be worth something. Since he told me to call him or come and see him without telling me exactly when, I think I could afford to wait until the week was over to talk to him.

As soon as I get to his office door, it opens without me having to announce myself. I walk in and stand in front of his desk in what he calls the waiting posture: feet shoulder width apart and forearms on each other behind my back. He is watching something that looks to me like it happened in the basement of Eden, but since I have never been there, I can’t be sure. He pauses the projection and walks around his table to face me, standing in front of me, almost too close, right in my bubble. I want to step back, to give him a little more space, but he holds me there with both hands on my shoulders.

You’re not supposed to move or speak unless I allow you to or ask you questions. Tell me about it.

I tell him about my meeting with Jonny and his parents.

What are you going to do now, he asks?

Nothing.

Nothing, Sir, he corrects my answer.

I repeat, Nothing, Sir.

I asked you, it seems to me anyway, to make it up to him. Am I wrong?

No, Sir. But he told me that the only way to make amends is to leave and never come back.

He won’t forgive you that way. He can go on pretending you never existed, that’s all. He feels more comfortable erasing this year from his memory. What he told you about his motives, about his reasons for not telling anyone, is just a pretty story he made up because it rang true and he could believe it. Why else would he continue to hide everything from his father?

I don’t know, Sir, but he seemed sincere.

Of course, he did. He told himself that story so many times that he came to believe it completely.

I didn’t know what else to do. Go back to Jonny? It would look like I was only thinking about myself and my future career. Not to go? I would be disobeying my master and losing everything. And according to him, Jonny’s motives are not as simple as he would have me believe.

What are you afraid of? That he is going to insult you, call you a brute and selfish man? Would it be so terrible? Haven’t you acted towards him like the paragon of brutality and selfishness? You claim you’re willing to let him do anything to you so he’ll forgive you, but as soon as he calls you what you are, you’re ready to run away.

He lets me think. I am still hesitant, but he’s raised doubts about my own motives.

If you decide to go back to him, ask him if he felt very relieved, after moving out, not to have you in his life anymore. Don’t just listen to his sad story about being a martyred child; get him to give you details about how he really felt.

He doesn’t ask me if I plan to go back. He must have read my mind already. I nod.

Don’t wait a week doing nothing but going to class. If nothing happens, I want to know and if things get better with him too.

You hadn’t…

I wanted to tell him that he hadn’t specified when I should come by and meet him or call him. He stopped me before I had time to add any details to my explanation.

Did I ask you a question? Did I allow you to speak freely?

No, Sir.

He goes around me. He takes the package Amy gave me for him and puts it on his table. Then he goes back behind me. He’s still standing too close, still in my bubble. I have broken a rule and any breach brings punishment, I know. I can feel the tension rising in me. I wait for him to decide to do something to me, anything, but he stays right behind me as my breathing quickens.

Control your breath, David. It’s by losing control of our breath that we first lose control of our mind, of our thoughts. And then we lose control of our actions. If you want to stay in control of yourself, start by regulating your breathing. Breathe slowly and deeply.

I remember the relaxation exercises I did in school when I was younger. I try the yogi breathing. My breath slows down and my heart beats a little slower too.

That’s good, he congratulates me.

Then he places a hand flat on the middle of my back, a little higher than my loins. I feel the warmth of his hand, but my breath is quickening again. I don’t wait for him to demand it and start trying to breathe more deeply and slowly again.

I wish I were somewhere else. I regret my mistake. I promise myself I won’t speak again without his permission. He says nothing. His hand is still motionless in the middle of my back, warming it. My breath is just about back to normal when he begins to slide his hand up my spine to the back of my neck. The fear makes my stomach hurt. Yet he did nothing but slowly and very gently slide his hand up my back. I tell myself that my fear is absurd and I still try to slow my breath and not lose control of it.

His hand is simply resting against the back of my neck now. His fingers, resting on either side, wrap around it like a warming collar. Yet it is this expectation that sets my imagination in motion and causes me to panic. I tell myself that I must not let my imagination wander, that I must just try to control my breath. I finally do. I feel very calm. It seems to me that my master could do anything to me and I would manage to keep my composure. However, when his hand slowly goes around my neck, comes to press on the front of my throat and presses there a little, yet very little, all my beautiful work falls apart.

How long has he been behind me, doing nothing that should have made me angry? Everything he did to me could almost be considered caresses, so gentle were his gestures. So why is this so hard for me to take that I want to beg him to let me go?

I try to regain the calm that seemed so unflappable earlier. Sir is waiting. His hand doesn’t move even a thousandth of a millimeter and I only hear his breath, which is so slow and peaceful that it reassures me. I imagine myself sitting on top of a mountain by the sea. I watch the sun rise. The sun’s rays warm me. I smell the salty smell of the ocean. I hear little birds chirping behind me. And above me, I see gulls gliding slowly on the air currents. I feel good.

Until he squeezes my throat so hard that I am thrown against his chest where he holds me, supports me I should say, since I am on my toes now. A reflex pushes me to pull my arms away from my back and struggle a little. He releases the pressure against my neck a little to allow me to breathe. I try to resume the waiting posture, but if I did, I would put my feet on top of his and rub my arms against his belly. So I stay still, in the position I am in. I would like to return to my mountain, but I have lost my way and I cannot seem to find it.

I wonder if it is possible for anyone to live something like that at the hands of this man, who is said to be stern, without getting scared. How could I do it? Instead of trying to calm myself down every time the fear comes back, how can I make sure that I don’t lose my cool? I ask myself, Am I really that afraid? If so, of what exactly? Certainly not of dying, because it would be very surprising if he killed me here and now. Of being in pain? Pain scares me, it is true, but I can deal with it. I broke a rule. If he made me suffer a little to punish me for that mistake, it wouldn’t be so bad. I can accept that. So why did I resist earlier? I should have let him do what he wanted. What does it matter?

He shakes me so hard that my head is spinning, then he pulls me against him, pressing his hand against my throat again. I try not to resist him, to let him manipulate me as if I were a rag doll. Come what may. Yes, my breath and my heart have quickened again, but not as much as the previous times, and I quickly come to my senses and calm down. Yet his hand still presses my throat, making it difficult to breathe. Difficult, but not impossible. I just take smaller breaths, that’s all. It’s simple. He releases me. I am a little dizzy. He holds me with his hands on my shoulders and asks, Are you okay?

Yes, Sir.

You did a good job, David. For a first experience of this kind, it’s excellent.

I want to say thank you, but I wasn’t allowed to speak, so I keep quiet. He is back in front of me and smiles. I look at the time on his wall clock. It seems to me that when he had walked up behind me, it was ten past six. It is now twenty past seven. He has spent an hour and ten minutes essentially standing still behind me and I have spent all that time trying to keep calm.

The fear you experienced was your own doing, David, the work of your imagination. You need to learn not to let your imagination run wild or your fear dominate your mind. You may have had the best training in the whole world, you may have trained perfectly to perform all the tasks expected of you on a mission, you may have gained experience in the field through volunteer work or whatever, but if you lose control of your mind so easily, you are no better than dead. Do you understand me?

Yes, Master.

Go do what you have to now.

~.~.~

After eating, I go directly to Jonathan’s place by astrobus. Once at his pyramid, now entirely lit by bioluminescence, I ring the bell outside. Nobody answers. So I try all the buttons. Some residents ask me who I am and what I want, I do not answer. But someone must have been waiting for a visitor and he opened the door without even checking who was ringing. Once at the door of the Whimp residence, I ring again, Mr. Whimp opens.

His wife must have told him what I did to his son, because he slams the door in my face without saying anything. I suspect where Jonny’s room is, so I go out, walk around the pyramid in the relatively narrow space that separates it from the building next door, all the walls of which are used as tridi screens and display advertising. On one of them, I see a little girl playing in a courtyard like everyone used to have in the past. She goes to a garden where fruits and vegetables grow. She picks a ripe strawberry and bites into it. The name of a local company that produces and sells fruits and vegetables appears as a miniature cyclone that the girl swallows along with her fruit. Once behind the building where Jonny lives, I throw a pebble at what I think is his window. Nothing. I walk around the grounds and look in the windows to see if he is there. Most of them are solar collectors and I can’t see anything inside. So, I decide to wait for Jonny sitting on the steps. His father sees me and comes to tell me to leave right away or he will call the police. I go and sit on the steps of the residential spiral opposite. If no one chases me away, maybe I can stay there until Jonny comes out or gets home; hopefully he doesn’t stay home until tomorrow or spend the night with one of the cute young ladies, who will perform the love parade in front of him.

An androservant comes out of the building behind me and asks what I want. I answer him that I only want to rest a little, that I will leave then. The inflections in my voice, the expression on my face, the lack of tension in my muscles and my smell must tell his sound, visual and olfactory sensors that I am not a threat. He may also have identified me through the universal identification database, and since my record is clean, he therefore goes back inside.

I lean against the railing and fall asleep. I wake up suspended in mid-air. It is Jonny who has grabbed me by my jacket and is holding me in a rather precarious position. He shakes me even harder than Sir did earlier, then lets go. I end up sprawled out on the steps. I try to get up, when he puts a foot on my chest and orders me to stay there. I look at him and smile. I’ll stay there as long as he wants me to.

He returns home, abandoning me on the neighbors’ stairs. But he or his father called the police, probably pretending to be the owner across the street. When the police arrive, two policemen, a man in his forties and a young woman in her twenties order me to follow them. I stay lying on the steps.

Jonny and his family are standing on the front porch of their sandbox home watching the scene. Mr. Whimp smiles, pleased to see me in trouble. Jonny’s mother walks in without waiting for the outcome of this interesting police drama. Jonny stands and stares at me, arms crossed over his chest, looking serious.

The policewoman asks me to show her my cards. In fact, she has probably already identified me, but I obey her. I spread my thumb and index finger to activate my com and display my identity documents. She takes the opportunity to take my fingerprints, voice prints and eye prints with her own com.

What is your name? she asks.

Lying to them wouldn’t do me any good. All she would have to do is read what her com is displaying now and she would know immediately. It is even likely that she’s only questioning me to get me to collaborate in my own arrest. Police officers and salespeople alike are taught the foot-in-the-door principle. You ask for something simple, then something more difficult and so on. Having cooperated once, we are usually inclined to do it again.

David Bar-Kokhba.

Do you live or know anyone living at this address?

No, I don’t.

Then what are you doing lying on these steps?

I’m resting.

Can’t you go and rest at your home?

No, I can’t. I’m where I should be.

Why should you stay here?

For the young man standing over there. The one with his arms crossed.

They look the other way. The policewoman goes to question Jonny, who probably tells her he has nothing to do with it, that he’s just curious to see what’s going to happen. I ask my translator to turn up the volume.

He said that if he stays there, it’s because of you, the young policewoman explains.

I repeat, I have nothing to do with him. Besides, he seems to be free to move around, so why doesn’t he get up?

The policeman asks me if there is something preventing me from moving, like a drug, virtual bonds, the effect of a paralysis ray or something else. He could also easily find out if I was lying to him.

Um… Just the desire to make it up to him. Does that count?

This is no time for jokes. Come on, get in this flyercar or I’ll give you a shock with this.

He then shows me his stick. Actually, it is the police version of the ones my master and his assistants used during my entrance test, except that on the cop’s stick’s handle there is only a dial graduated from one to twenty and three buttons: a silver one, probably to send a normal discharge, a big green one, probably for arrest, and a red one, maybe to activate the safety lock. My master’s stick could only send very weak shocks, while this one is surely able to knock you out if necessary.

Since I still didn’t move, the policeman sent me a shock that, if it was really at its lowest level, was still strong enough to have made me yelp with surprise. At Eden, I probably would have gotten another jolt for not keeping quiet. I really don’t want him to do it again, but I am not getting up from these steps unless it is as an undead or with Jonny’s permission.

"Are you getting