No Eden Without... Hell, Book 4: Internal and External Disturbances

By Danielle Tremblay

David discovers the story of Don, Greg Arsh's extraordinary grandson. He must help the latter save Alicia and Durandal from the deadly pandemic about to decimate the population. An unknown woman hands David a baby on which Daruma's political balance may depend. He must then intervene against a terrorist attack that could annihilate the Community of Planets.
This series, entitled "No heaven without... hell", includes 10 titles:
This series, entitled "No heaven without... hell", includes 10 titles:
- Volume 1: The admission test
- Volume 2: Soldier of peace
- Volume 3: One step forward
- Volume 4: Internal and external disturbances
- Volume 5: Here and elsewhere
- Volume 6: From trial to trial
- Volume 7: Every man for himself
- Volume 8: A reason to live or die
- Volume 9: Becoming a Master
- Volume 10: Resurrection

• Language: English
• Publisher: Danielle Tremblay
• Release date: Sep 6, 2023
• ISBN: 9782924400418

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

No Eden without… Hell

Book 4

Internal and External Disturbances

Danielle Tremblay

Ideas, they come and go without leaving any trace

if they are not impregnated in the blood, the guts,

the breasts and the darkest depths of the loins.

Gérald Messadié in L’Homme qui devint dieu

2023

Copyright

The Canadian code of the intellectual property authorizing on the one hand only the copies or reproductions strictly reserved for the private use of the copyist and not intended for a collective use and on the other hand, that the analyses and the short quotations with an aim of examples and illustration, any reprinting or reproduction in whole or in part made without the assent of the author or his successors in title or assigns is illegal. Any reprinting or reproduction, by any means whatsoever, would therefore constitute an infringement punishable by law.

All rights reserved for the book Internal and External Disturbances.

ISBN 978-2-924400-41-8 to Danielle Tremblay: first French publication 2014, first English publication 2023.

All rights reserved, Danielle Tremblay, first English edition published at Smashwords in 2023. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form, by any means, without the prior written consent of the author.

Table of Content

Copyright

Chapter 1: Don’s Story: Part I: Childhood

Chapter 2: Don's story - Part 2: Adolescence

Chapter 3: Don's story - Part 3: Don makes a decision

Chapter 4: The Don Story - Part 4: The spaceship flight

Chapter 5: The Don Story - Part 5: Laura

Chapter 6: The Don Story - Part 6: Don and Laura

Chapter 7: Discussion about Master Arsh

Chapter 8: Don's story - Part 7: Slavery and reconciliation

Chapter 9: The next day, six in the morning

Chapter 10: Greg Arsh returns to Eden and visits Shaddaï

Chapter 11: Choosing a slave for Dreki sahiba

Chapter 12: Jean's arrival

Chapter 13: The galia and the vagaries of David's telepathic gift

Chapter 14: Mily and David's training, Jean's visit to the shrink

Chapter 15: At the consulate

Chapter 16: David at Mizori's

Chapter 17: At Madame Naska's

Chapter 18: Back on Earth with a baby

Chapter 19: Visits to my parents and Jonny

Chapter 20: Master Arsh put to rest

Chapter 21: The terrorist attack

Chapter 22: On Këshill

Chapter 23: Journey back to Earth

Other books in this series

Chapter 1: Don’s Story – Part 1

My father recorded something about how Grandpa created androids from his genes and those of the C.P. mistresses who were his great friends. He also explains how he went about freeing his androids from their conditioning that kept them in forced servitude. He created himself, if I may say so, adult children and made sure that they could reproduce.

His sister is a geneticist. She must’ve helped him, I said.

Yes. Look. That’s what Dad’s recording says.

I see Don’s father’s face. Adam is recounting, as if it were happening before our eyes, his transformation into a human and the birth of Adonai, better known as Don, his son and Greg Arsh’s grandson.

..

Adam, Don’s father, tells how he became a human being

I remember walking on the beach. The wind was blowing fiercely. The sky was full of clouds and the storm was beginning to rumble. The stormy sea was so beautiful that it was breathtaking. But perhaps it was what I was discovering about myself that took my breath away.

All my life I’ve never wanted anything more than to serve. But this servitude was imposed on me, in a way so intimate, so deep that I didn’t feel it as such. For I’m a prisoner, but my prison has no real bars; my chains are in my mind. From the moment I was born, nothing was more pleasing to me than servitude to the human race and all intelligent life, but especially to the person to whom I belonged. My mind was ‘programmed’ to follow the laws of robotics to the letter. For I’m an androservant.

The laws of robotics are:

A robot may not harm a human being or, remaining passive, allow a human being to be exposed to danger.

Arobot must obey the orders given to it by a human being, unless such orders conflict with the first law.

A robot must protect its existence as long as such protection does not conflict with the first or second law.

My name is Adam, and I look very much like my father, the one who calls himself my father, for he gave me his genes, as one would pass them on to one’s child. And I resemble him not as a clone, which I’m not, but as his son would resemble him. That’s what he calls me now, my son.

I started having all kinds of problems around the time he started calling me that. Since then, I’ve had memory loss, difficulty concentrating, inconsistent movement, slurred speech and insomnia. Yes, I sleep, as do humans, but for a shorter period of time than they do. Usually, three hours is enough for me to recover all my physical or intellectual means. But lately, worry has been keeping me awake. Even worse, I thought I was hearing voices in my head!

I have to say that my owner, the one I now call Father, has driven crazy all my predecessors, my android brothers and sisters, his servants. And the first ones he wanted to fix died.

When we androids are made, human genetic material is used but modified in a way to optimize cellular reproduction so that the being that will be born as an adult is as perfect as its genes allow. It’s almost impossible for us to get sick and our lifespan is often doubled compared to that of our progenitors. By a kind of computer and neuronal feeding, we are taught various elementary notions, like those that humans normally learn during their childhood and adolescence. We are taught to walk, to speak several languages, the most commonly used, to read, write and count. We know how to perform perfectly all the tasks most likely to be asked of us by our owners. And if those owners wished, it’s possible for them to have new notions and skills taught to us.

Before Sir got it into his head that he wanted to rid me of my conditioned servitude and started calling me Son, I was able to perform all my duties properly. However, Sir only wants what is best for me. He wants to emancipate me from the programming that keeps me on a leash. He wants me to become fully human, so that he can consider me as his son.

So why did one program me in the first place? Sir had no choice. On Earth, human genetic manipulation isn’t permitted for any purpose other than producing androids or correcting defective hereditary traits. He would’ve liked to have a child, but he didn’t have the necessary time to educate him or her, to take care of a baby and all that it implies when a human has a child. So, he decided to use his genes and those of a good female friend to make an android that would look like the child he could have had with her. Except that this child was born with her adult size and all the knowledge necessary to survive himself, his owner and fulfill his duties as a servant.

However, since what Sir wanted was not a servant, but a son or daughter, he set about trying to deprogram his first android servant through surgery. His half-sister, a renowned geneticist and surgeon, was in charge of this secret operation. The operated android was a beautiful maid, just as blond as her ‘mother’, with eyes shining with intelligence. But the experiment didn’t work as desired, and his daughter died shortly afterwards.

He then bought another android, this one male, and tried again, avoiding the previous mistakes. The android lived longer, but eventually broke down beyond repair as well. From most people’s point of view, it was just another machine that went out of order, but his half-sister said it was unacceptable to risk killing living beings in the hope of freeing their minds. But each time, he presented it to her in such a way that she came to believe that this time it could work. He’d remind her that thousands of androservants could be emancipated in this way if they succeeded. So, she’d try a new brain operation on another Father’s child.

I, Adam, am the seventh of his children. Like the previous ones, I’ve had brain surgery. As with the others, Father has used all the latest science, technology and knowledge to deprogram me. Moreover, to achieve this, he keeps pushing me to act more and more like a human being every day. This is why I’m afraid that my current defects are irreparable and mean the beginning of my end. My father doesn’t believe this. He says it’s normal for me to be troubled by what I’m going through, that it’s stressful to go against my values, to change my lifestyle, to strive to become truly human. ‘It’s hard, even for someone who was not born a servant, like you,’ he told me. He believes that stress and lack of sleep are the cause of my other disorders, but that they’ll gradually subside.

His efforts to deprogram me sometimes put me in the position of making decisions that are almost impossible for an android to make. For example, one day, Father asked me to help Lea, his half-sister, with a job she was doing. He told me that if she didn’t finish the job on time, her delay would cause her great difficulty and she’d suffer greatly. He added that the time she’d been given was much too short and that she’d certainly not succeed without a good helping hand. So, I was very happy to be able to help his half-sister, until I found out that she was hoping to succeed on her own, without any help. If I don’t help her, not only will I disobey Sir, which is unthinkable for me, but she’ll fail and suffer. And if I help her, she’ll be unhappy that she couldn’t finish everything in time on her own. Either way, I’ll be hurting her.

I’m supposed to obey my owner and never hurt humans, so this kind of dilemma puts terrible stress on me. It’s this kind of stress that drove Sir’s other sons and daughters to madness.

Finally, I choose to help Lea. In my view, it’s the lesser of two evils, because at least I’ll obey my owner, as I must. And if Lea doesn’t want my help, she’ll tell me and order me to let her do her job alone. She accepts my help, but obviously reluctantly. The whole time I help her, I see her annoyance, so I feel like I’m between a rock and a hard place, and it seems to me that my head is going to burst.

Father tells me that the more I act against my conditioning, the freer my mind will be and thus my discomforts and disorders will decrease until they disappear. So, I continue to do everything he asks me to do. I wear clothes other than the androservants’ uniforms, even though I feel like a gorilla in a ballerina’s tutu in the all-too-human clothes he imposes on me. I watch comedies and entertainment shows. I take part in sports, hobbies and other leisure activities so unhelpful to my duties that I’m always wondering whether I should disobey him, which makes me very stressed and unhappy, or obey him, which makes me very uncomfortable because I’m no longer spending one hundred percent of my time on my servant duties, as I’m programmed to do.

I also read all the books he chooses for me. His choices are very eclectic. They range from scientific works to science fiction novels, books on politics or philosophy, poetry collections and human history textbooks. Reading scholarly books doesn’t create too many problems for me. I can continue to believe that what I read serves to improve the quality of my servitude to Father and all the humans I come in contact with. But when it comes to novels, it’s a different matter. How can I convince myself that a fantasy novel will help me in my duties towards the humans around me? For science fiction novels, it’s even worse. I recently read a story in which a man discovers at the age of forty that he’s a machine. After an accident that cuts off his arm, he sees that he has no veins or nerves, but instead has wires and cables under his human-looking flesh. Then the protagonist wonders about the life he’s lived, he wonders if, being a machine, but having lived all these years as a holy man, his good life has given him a soul. He wonders what will happen to him when he dies. Having always been good and generous, will he be allowed to enter heaven?

This leads me to wonder about human nature. Is it enough to be made of flesh and blood to be human and have the same rights as them?

Then, Sir gave me a book on the Civil War to read. This finally set my world on fire. I say to myself, If I am human, what right do they have to keep me in this slavery?

I know what he wants. He’s done everything to awaken those parts of my brain that have been deliberately put to sleep, all those areas that are too human and not servile enough, those areas marked with the seal of freedom. And now Father is pushing me to rebel, to want to free myself from my shackles. But what will I become? Will I become a real human being or will I always be different, a kind of monster, half human and half androservant?

To reward me for my efforts to become more human and to comfort me a little, Father bought me a cat. It’s a tiny ball of fur that meows constantly and scratches everything it touches. I don’t know how such a small animal will help me feel less stressed and happy about trying to be more human. I see it more as extra work, taking me further away from my servitude to Father and the other humans. But Father seems so happy to give me this gift that I accept it and do what it takes to take good care of it.

The kitten became attached to me and I to Father. I haven’t declawed her, because I allow her to go outside and play. It seems best to let her act in accordance with her predatory nature. As for me, her wanderings outside give me a little more time to meet the demands of my servant nature.

Father would prefer that I take more care of her. But one evening when he sees me calling almost with the intensity of despair my little Cuddler, whom I haven’t seen for two days, he smiles, quite happy with these new feelings I’m learning to experience. He smiles even wider when the naughty cat comes running, climbing on me to come and perch on my shoulder where she brushes against my cheek and sniffs my smell by sticking the tip of her muzzle against my nose.

Without telling me, Sir bought a new female android, who doesn’t have the same parents as me. Her name is Eve. She, too, has been ‘tortured’ by being forced out of her servitude program. She is very pretty, intelligent, charming and very eager to please her new owner. So, when Sir orders us to go on vacation together and offers us a pair of tickets to Arcadia, the planet par excellence of leisure, she and I look at each other with the same amazed look. But, even if ‘vacation’ isn’t normally part of androids’ vocabulary, at least not for themselves, what can we do but obey him?

Before boarding the spaceship that will take us to Arcadia, Sir orders us to obey no one but ourselves. I must take the best care of her and she of me, as if we were each other’s servants. He specifies that we are to use all our talents to serve each other, as we’d serve himself or any human being to whom we belong. We are to make the most of the activities offered on Arcadia to turn our minds away from servitude to humans.

I know too well what’s on his mind. I’m just as sure of it as if I’d read his mind. He hopes to see us become ‘in love’ with each other and act like lovers do together. Our programming includes massages and erotic pleasures, so it’ll be impossible for us not to use them at least once.

But then I express my doubt. Won’t my recent functioning problems get worse when we are light years away from Earth and him? What will happen to us if that happens? Then he gives us each a nice bracelet in which is recorded everything that the medical staff of our destination might need to rescue us, if necessary, and to bring us back to Earth. We have nothing to fear, he’s sure.

Eve asks him if we don’t risk finding the couple that we form a little unusual, even strange. He answers her that everyone has the right to be different, even us, and that our difference, if it still exists, isn’t apparent.

So, we leave, as any human would for a holiday. And once on Arcadia, we obey his orders as best we can, but we hate almost every minute of this forced vacation. However, as he’d hoped, we begin to fall in love with each other. She is the only person in the world who can truly understand me, and I am the only one who knows what she’s been through and how she truly feels, because we are unique: the only androids in the process of emancipation of the entire universe.

Normally, androids can’t reproduce. But when we were born, Sir had made it possible for us to do so. And the day he officially emancipated us, since we don’t have strictly speaking any parents, he gave us the family name Wilson. Then he adds that he and our mothers would love to have a bunch of little Wilsons. My parents are only 25 and 30 years old. If Eve and I have children, they’ll be young grandparents.

Eve, Cuddler and I then moved to a nearby village. Father had taken care of all the formalities so that we could become ‘officially’ human and be given all the rights linked to this status, but in the meantime, as we had to work to provide for the essentials of our new existence, he managed, thanks to the help of an influential friend, to get us various permits. While we were waiting for a job, Father provided for all our needs. Eve and I have both found jobs that our remaining programming makes easy. She works in a kindergarten, so that she can keep a watchful eye on our future offspring. And I work in a recreation center, making the humans’ vacations as pleasant as possible. This will allow me to keep an eye on the children during their vacation.

When Father learned that Eve was pregnant, he almost lost his mind with happiness. He, Lea and our mothers are keeping a very close eye on the progress of this pregnancy. Everyone is very curious to know if the little one will be born with this almost irrepressible need to serve, characteristic of androids.

But one day, when Adonai, our son, is not yet three years old, Eve tells us that she had to reprimand our dear little one, who had fought with another child who had just snatched a toy from him. We sensed then that he might be a little too human.

..

I tell Don how fabulous this story sounds to me and that I didn’t know that our master had created some of his own children, the parents of Don, short for Adonai, in this way.

It’s kind of funny to think that he is so intent on making his students good servants and that he put so much energy into freeing his servants from their need to serve, Don comments.

Yeah, that crossed my mind too.

It’s not very easy to understand him, he replies with a smile.

And then, it seems indeed that you’re very human. Anyway, I don’t imagine you as an androservant at all.

Sometimes I think it’d be easier to obey him, to do everything he demands if I were programmed to do it.

I think he believes that those who always want to have it easy are flawed, unable to fight for their own survival.

He laughs.

Yeah. I don’t disagree with you.

How about you continue to tell me your story.

Chapter 2: Don’s Story – Part 2

Don tells me about his childhood and adolescence.

When I was a little boy, my grandfather, like all grandparents, visited my family from time to time. Grandpa Greg loved me very much and he often told me stories he made up to put me to sleep. His stories began with, Once upon a time there was a giant… or Once upon a time there was a dragon… or something else equally fabulous to me. Grandpa said that my eyes lit up immediately and that he enjoyed it very much. On his visits, he would sometimes take me in his ship to see things he knew I would like or find interesting, such as polar bears, large whales, the Northern Lights, large gorillas, the most fabulous circuses in the world, the most age-appropriate rides and so on.

Many times, I had gone with my grandfather to Eden. He even took me to visit what he called his zoo and botanical garden. In the zoo, there were only freaky animals, at least on the surface. Some of them weren’t bad, but they all looked scary. Except for one, which looked very nice, until you tried to get closer to it. Then it wanted to eat you. Fortunately, all these horrible beasts were in cages or aquariums. As for the big greenhouse, the plants were not like those in my parents’ garden. My grandfather’s plants, even the most beautiful ones, could eat your hand or twist around you until you choked. I put on a brave face and told Grandpa that I thought his animals and plants were very qi which, in the teenage slang, meant thrilling. In spite of this, Grandpa tried to reassure me and explain to me that, for those who know well these animals and plants, there is no danger and that they are all very useful.

Sometimes my grandfather would transform a virtual room of Eden into a jungle, a pirate ship on an endless sea, a distant and wonderful planet or a royal palace so that I could become a musketeer in the time of the kings of France, for example. At first, I didn’t know what a virtual room was, but after a few visits, I understood that I could go wherever I wanted in this room, while staying at the academy where my grandfather worked. Each time, he allowed me to choose where I wanted to go. I absolutely loved that.

"One day, when I was only five years old, he came to my parents’ house and found me throwing a massive tantrum. My parents had refused to let me go on an outing with some of my friends, who were all going to Arcadia for a few weeks, accompanied only by the mother of one of them. My parents thought I was too young to go away for so long without them. And they couldn’t take a vacation to go with me. But because several of my best friends were going, I felt different from the others and excluded because of that difference, and I hated that. I believed that my parents’ decision was unfair. I had argued with them for a long time in the hope of convincing them, but they had been intractable, which had made me terribly angry. This was not my first anger, though. Adam, my father, had already told my grandfather about it, but until then, Grandpa had never witnessed one of my tantrums.

"That day, when my grandfather arrived, he observed the scene for a few moments, noting my destructive fury and my parents’ complete inability to calm me down.

Don, he said calmly.

But I couldn’t hear or see anything, I was blinded and deafened by rage. Grandfather then repeated louder, Don!

‘But I continued to punch and kick everything around me. Fearing that I would get hurt, Grandpa came over, grabbed me and held me tightly to his chest. They say I was very strong for my age, but I was still no match for a Daruman grandfather. I continued to punch and kick and even tried to bite him.

My grandfather continued to hold me against his chest without saying anything, only letting me release my rage against him. Then, when he felt me start to calm down, he said,

You did something really bad.

I looked at Papi and immediately stopped fighting.

Papi? I said, surprised to see myself in my grandfather’s arms.

I loved him very much and usually greeted him with outstretched arms and a big smile, shouting, Papiiii! And then I would threw myself into his arms. But not that day.

I’m very upset with you, he said as he laid me on the floor. You wanted to hurt your parents, you broke things in the house and you hurt me by punching and kicking me."

I looked at my grandfather, even more surprised at how seriously he was looking at me and talking to me. Grandpa had never scolded me, never said he was upset with me. I felt like crying. I wanted to make it up by snuggling up against him. But he gently pushed me away.

No. You don’t deserve a hug. You were very mean.

I started to cry.

You told me you loved me. We don’t punch and kick and bite people we love. Go to your room and think about what just happened. I’ll check on you later.

I looked at my father and mother, to see if I should do what my grandfather had just ordered. My father repeated what Grandpa had just said, Go to your room, Don.

I looked at my mother, who was looking away, as if she would rather not see me, as if she was ashamed of me. I felt sorry for her and, looking at my grandfather, I started to cry again.

They wouldn’t let me go on a trip with my friends.

Don, my grandfather repeated, we’ll talk about it later. Don’t make me angrier and go to your room right now.

Finally realizing that no one was going to get me out of the mess I had gotten myself into, I went to my room to sulk.

My parents and grandfather started eating without me. The smell of food brought me out of my room, and I said, Mom, I’m hungry.

Go back to your room, Don, my grandfather said again. You didn’t deserve to have dinner with us tonight.

I couldn’t believe my ears. My parents had never denied me anything. So, I looked at them again, but they did not object to this awful deprivation. I said, Mom! in a tone of pleading for mercy, but she continued to eat without looking at me. So, I looked at my father, who said, Obey your grandfather.

Incredulous, I stood still, waiting for the problem to solve itself, for my parents to come to their senses and save me from my evil grandfather. But no one was talking. Then my grandfather got up and came to me. He took me by the hand and dragged me into my room. I rebelled. I pulled with all my strength on the hand that was holding me, but it would not let go. Instead, my grandfather threw me on one of his shoulders and, despite my Let go! You’re mean. I don’t love you anymore, he took me back to my room.

You make me very sad when you say you don’t love me, Don. I still love you. But I don’t like you acting like a little monster. Do you know what a monster is?

I looked at him and nodded.

You acted like a monster today. I don’t like monsters, do you?

Through my tears that were flowing harder, I affirmed, I’m not a monster.

Then why did you hurt us?

They wouldn’t let me go with my friends.

Is that why you hit them and broke everything around you?

They are NOT nice.

Do you think they deserve to be hurt by you?

I said again, Yes. They’re not nice.

Don, your parents love you very much. They are very afraid that something bad will happen to you when you’re there without them. If there were real monsters that wanted to hurt you there, who would save you?

But… there will be Francis’ mom.

Yes. And she’d know how to defend you from monsters, do you think?

I looked at Grandpa, wondering if there really were monsters where my friends would go. I didn’t know what to say to him.

Answer me. Do you think she would be able to protect you?

No. She can’t fight.

I wanted to go cuddle up to my grandfather, but he held me back again, asking me if I was going to punch and kick him. He looked so sad! I started crying again.

If I’d known you wanted to go on a trip with your friends, I’d have sent someone to protect you, so you could go with them, but I didn’t know. And you still hit me. Do you remember that?

I nodded while crying harder.

Why did you do it? Is it because you don’t love me anymore?

I love you, Grandpa, I said, throwing myself into my grandfather’s arms, and he didn’t push me away this time.

I love you too, my little rabbit.

Grandpa hugged me tightly, got up and carried me in his arms and went back to my parents, who were having coffee and talking. He sat me down in my usual chair and sat down too.

Do you know what a promise is? my grandfather asked me.

Yes, it’s when you say that you will always do something and that you must always do it because you promised.

Yes, it can be that. But it can also be when you promise never to do something again and you’re not allowed to do it because you promised. Lift your right arm and put your other hand over your heart like this.

My grandfather showed me how to do it. I copied his gestures.

Now repeat what I’m going to say. I promise on my heart never again…

I repeated, I promise on my heart never again…

…get angry like I did today, my grandfather finished.

…get angry like today.

If your mom or dad sees you getting angry again and hitting everything and everyone around you, they’ll tell me. I’ll be very disappointed if you aren’t able to keep your promise and act like the big boy you are now. It’d hurt my feelings tremendously. You don’t want to hurt my feelings anymore, do you?

The tears came to my eyes again.

No, Grandpa.

That’s better. I think we can at least give him some cookies or a cereal, what do you say? my grandfather asked my parents. Which do you like better, Don, the cookies or the cereal?

Eeeeh. Can I have both?

No. You have to choose, demanded Grandpa.

Cereal…eh, no, cookies.

Are you sure?

Yes, I want cookies.

Please, added Grandpa.

I frowned at first, then straightened up in my seat and looked at my grandfather before adding, Please.

Grandpa smiled gently at me. I felt comforted and repeated, I love you, Grandpa.

I love you very much too, Jellybean, my grandfather replied, stroking my hair so gently that I shivered.

Keeping my promise was difficult. I had a hard time controlling my impulses and bad moods. But when my father or mother saw the anger starting to thunder in me, they would say, You’re going to hurt your Grandpa’s feelings if you keep this up, Don.

I’d look at them, and then I’d imagine my grandfather calling me my little bunny or jelly bean while stroking my hair, and I’d feel bad just thinking about him being disappointed in me, in what I could have done. And the anger would subside enough to allow me to express my disagreement or bad mood verbally rather than through yelling and hitting.

~.~.~

Two and a half years later, I got into a fight with another kid in the schoolyard. My grandfather was visiting and heard about it from my dad while everyone was sitting at the table eating.

I looked at my father reproachfully, then at my grandfather, to know what he thought. Then I asked my father, Why did you tell him that?

Why wouldn’t he tell me? asked Grandpa.

So, I wouldn’t hurt your feelings.

Ah, you think the way to not hurt my feelings is not to do the right thing, but to do the opposite and then hide it from me or lying to me?

Bobby was always nagging me.

Do you know how my students stand after walking into my office? my grandfather asked.

I didn’t understand why he was asking me that just then.

Many times, my father or mother had driven me to Eden, leaving me on the first floor. I would then go to Grandpa’s office by myself. If he was busy, I would sit in the chair to the left of his desk by the window and wait for him to finish, as he had asked me to. He never kept me waiting for long, but I always found the time long because I couldn’t wait for him to ask me, So, what do you feel like doing today? I knew that this question was the prelude to a lot of fun. Sometimes one of his students would come into his office while I was there. When his students came in, they would stand in front of his big table, spread their legs a little bit and put their arms behind their backs in a special way.

Yes, I saw them do it, I said to my grandfather that day.

Come here, said Grandpa, pointing in front of him, and show me how they do it.

I was proud to be able to show him that I was as good as they were, even though I was small. So, I got up and stood between his extended legs, where I assumed what I knew he and his students called the waiting posture.

Turn around so I can see if it’s correct on the other side too.

I turned around, but I hadn’t spread my legs again when I stopped. So, Grandpa put one foot between mine and pushed them back into the right position.

Yes, that’s right. There’s something else they do, or rather don’t do, when they walk into my office. Do you know what it is?

I tried to turn around to face him, but he put his hands on my shoulders and stopped me.

No, stay like that. I haven’t allowed you to turn around yet. Answer my question first.

I can’t remember.

‘What don’t you remember: the question or the answer?"

The question.

‘The question, Sir. My students call me Sir or Master.

So, you don’t remember the question?

Yes… eeeh, Sir.

Good, very good.

That encouragement made me feel a little better, but I didn’t understand this new game.

You have to pay close attention to what I say or ask you to do, okay?

Yes, Sir.

The question was: do you know what my students don’t do when they come into my office?

I thought about it and couldn’t find the answer. I only knew that they didn’t move and… didn’t talk either.

They don’t talk right away.

That’s right, they don’t talk.

You can turn around now.

I faced Papi and resumed the same posture. He continued to question me.

What do you think they wait for before talking?

I shrugged.

No, when I question you, you have to answer me in words, always politely and you have to say ‘Sir’, not ‘Grandpa’. So, what are they waiting for?

I don’t know.

My grandfather grabbed me by the collar of my shirt and pulled me towards him.

You said you’d pay attention to what I ask you, right?

Yes, Sir.

He let me go.

What did you say to me earlier?

I… I…

You answered, ‘I don’t know.’ You should’ve answered...?

My grandfather held me by my collar, waiting for me to find the rest. But I couldn’t.

So?

I thought, He treats me like his students. Am I his student? I’m way too young for that.

To be my student, it isn’t a question of age, but of courage, will, discipline, generosity and goodness. Age is secondary to these qualities.

I wondered why my grandfather had said that when I had just asked myself that question.

"Because I’m a telepath," he replied without his lips moving.

He then explained to me what a telepath was. I looked at him with wide eyes, hardly believing what I was hearing without really hearing it, because he had only spoken in my head. Then he made me promise not to tell anyone what he was.

It’s a secret between us, he added, smiling at me in a conspiratorial way.

Then he resumed his questioning, How would one of my students answer a question he didn’t know the answer to?

I thought about it, and then I realized what I had forgotten.

‘He would’ve said, I don’t know, Sir.’

Right.

You broke one of the rules. Normally, I punish rule breakers, Don. Do you think I should punish you?

I looked at my parents again.

They won’t help you. It’s not their choice, it’s yours. You are my new student, not them.

I don’t know what to say, Sir.

I didn’t feel very good standing still and answering all his questions. I didn’t know if I wanted to be his student. I had heard that in Eden you could become a hero. And people said that with my grandfather, you could even become a kind of superhero, but he was very strict. That’s what they all said.

I would have loved to become a superhero, but I was afraid of what my grandfather would do to me or ask of me to allow me to become one.

All you have to do is always act as well as you can. That’s all. And I’ll help you.

But they…

I wanted to say what I had heard, what people were saying about him, but he stopped me.

Silence, Don! I didn’t allow you to speak freely. Second breach of a rule. So, do you know now what my students wait for before they speak?

Yes, they wait for you to allow it or ask them a question, eh Sir.

That’s fine. But be more careful not to break any more rules.

Then he got to the heart of the matter.

Tell me, Don, do you think any of my students would be proud to have done what you did in your schoolyard?

I didn’t mean to…

Don, you just broke another rule. You’re only supposed to answer my question, not say anything other than the answer to that question, and you know that, don’t you?

I turned my head, to look away, anywhere; I didn’t want to look at my grandfather anymore, not to play his game. I didn’t like what he was doing. I wanted to be somewhere else, to go play with my friends, to go to my room. I would have even rather gone to do my homework than stand between my grandfather’s legs that day.

If you’d rather not be my student and become my brave little peacekeeper, or a hero, that’s your choice, Don. If you tell me you just want me to leave you alone, I will, but don’t come to me afterwards and tell me you changed your mind. You have to choose what you really want, not tell me what your fear wants to answer for you.

My grandfather turned his head slowly so that I would look at him. But I kept my eyes down.

Look at me, he asked in an affectionate tone.

I looked up and saw all the love of a grandfather for his grandson, but also sadness. I suddenly felt like throwing myself into his arms, but I must not, or I would have to tell him that I didn’t want to be a hero.

You don’t have to choose immediately. Think about it. When you are sure of what you want, you’ll tell me. But I must tell you that if you decide to become my student, I’ll have to punish you for breaking the rules today and getting into a fight with your friend Bobby. Dismissed now, soldier, my grandfather concluded with a wink.

Then he pulled my shirt tighter to bring me close to him and hugged me. I hugged him even tighter.

Can I talk any way I want to now?

Yes, of course, you can. You aren’t my student yet, are you?

I nodded, almost disappointed that I was no longer his student. Then I remembered that I had to answer him in words. I felt bad for breaking a rule again.

You aren’t my student yet. You can say what you want or keep quiet, if that’s what you prefer. But you still have to be polite, okay?

Yes, Sir… Papi.

You see, you’re a quick learner. Soon you won’t be making any mistakes.

They say you… you are very strict with them.

They tell the truth. And that scares you?

I nodded yes.

I understand that. But there’s one thing you need to know about fear… It’s kind of like dumbbells.

When he didn’t continue his explanation, I asked him, What do you mean, dumbbells?

The more you lift them, the stronger you get and the easier it is to lift them again. Then you’re able to lift heavier and heavier ones. Do you see what I’m getting at?

Yeah, I know what you mean.

Yeah? And what do I mean?

Well, the more we try not to be afraid, the easier it becomes to do it and the less afraid we are. Then we can do things that scare other people, but not ourselves.

Yes, that’s exactly right. Sometimes we still get scared, but not as often or as much as we used to.

My grandfather and I smiled at each other.

Grandpa continued to eat his cooled food. Mom offered to reheat it. He answered, No, thanks.

He gobbled it all up in a few bites, then left.

Chapter 3: Don’s Story – Part 3

Don tells me how he came to choose his grandfather as his master.

Afterwards, I thought a lot about my grandfather, his students, the