The Atavist Effect: Rika's Run

By S. I. McDonald

Introducing the first book in a speculative fiction series called The Atavist Effect: Rika's Run, this sets the framework of an epic tale that starts with the actions of unlikely characters, whose pursuit of their faith, family, and freedom put them against distant, seemingly all-powerful forces. The story is told from the twenty-second century through the research of a maker's apprentice trying to keep a seat in the qargi, the maker school. Like a complex puzzle, he pieces together old family stories to discover how a girl changed the events of the twenty-first century. On a stolen flying contraption and searching for her brother, Rika sowed the seeds of rebellion against technocratic globalists quietly seizing control and restricting people's freedoms.

The storyteller already knows that the world collapsed in the late twenty-first century; after all, it is a part of the curriculum in school. But the mystery is how it happened and how it all came back together. How do the choices of the previous generations impact the present? What is the right response when faced with difficult decisions against impossible odds?

While the book deals with tough issues, it's written for a diverse audience--from youth to those blessed with age. The characters are multigenerational, opening the door for families to read the book together to discover and talk about what happens and how things work in the world between the pages. It's not science fiction. It's science possible. Welcome to the age of cold-steam--a time for the makers.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Covenant Books, Inc.
• Release date: Mar 12, 2024
• ISBN: 9798891120709

Book preview

Table of Contents

Title

Copyright

Dedication

Chapter 1: Kiguunniq: The Box

Chapter 2: Piraksriaq: The Assignment

Chapter 3: Tiŋmiaġruk: Little Bird

Chapter 4: Misigiraq: Expected

Chapter 5: Atavist

Chapter 6: Tammaġniq: Lost

Chapter 7: Qimaktuq: Run

Chapter 8: Iñuksuk: Guidepost

Chapter 9: Akałłuqutaq: Troublesome

Chapter 10: Akiliusiaq: Stephen

Chapter 11: Sivunniq: Commit

Chapter 12: Annaksaq: SOS

Chapter 13: Paġna: Prepare

Chapter 14: Nunauraq: The Map

Chapter 15: Tusaayugaaq: News

Chapter 16: Igliq: Road Trip

Chapter 17: Naliġak: Choice

Chapter 18: Aġriqi: Basketball

Chapter 19: Piḷaktuq: Surgery

Chapter 20: Aŋuniaq: Hunt

Chapter 21: Nukilik: Strong One

Chapter 22: Irruaq: Imitate

Chapter 23: Aka: Protest

Chapter 24: Qiññaksraq: Design

Chapter 25: Siimmak: Ability

Chapter 26: Iglusuk: Nemesis

Chapter 27: Apiqsruutich: Interview

Chapter 28: Aitchuun: Sacrifice

Chapter 29: Ugiaq: Dogfight

Chapter 30: Pilit: Release

Chapter 31: Qasiŋŋuq: The Cwm

Chapter 32: Tiŋi: Flight

Chapter 33: Piyaqquġvik: Crash Site

Chapter 34: Paqit: Find

Chapter 35: Manisi: Presentation

Chapter 36: Kalukaq: Box Drum

About the Author

cover.jpg

The Atavist Effect

Rika's Run

S. I. McDonald

ISBN 979-8-89112-069-3 (Paperback)

ISBN 979-8-89112-070-9 (Digital)

Copyright © 2024 S. I. McDonald

All rights reserved

First Edition

North Slope Iñupiaq New Testament © American Bible Society. All rights reserved. Used with permission

Iñupiaq Language Editor Kathy Ahgeak

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods without the prior written permission of the publisher. For permission requests, solicit the publisher via the address below.

Covenant Books

11661 Hwy 707

Murrells Inlet, SC 29576

www.covenantbooks.com

Dedication

To my family: your faith, hope, and love have strengthened my own. Your faith to take up your cross in all you do, hope for the prize that makes endurance a joy, and love that works to pursue life as a maker's apprentice inspire my writing. And to the makers in the world: your tireless work to develop the skills to be self-reliant inspires us all.

Chapter 1

Kiguunniq: The Box

In early June, the Alaskan night sun lingered low above the horizon.

Hauk, Edger said, expressing his fatigue, and stretched his neck and shoulders.

Two thirty in the morning brought the sun over the mountain peaks.

Edge, what are you doing?

He searched the holographic files that floated in the space around his chair. Swiping a finger through the emitted light from a written passage, he turned the page.

Rika's Run is noth'ng but an old family story. It's noth'ng…if I can't find the…

His eyes moved through the files on the translucent screen.

I'll find 'em. I'll…

Lack of sleep made rubber of his arm as it fell to his side. Then the boy leaned back and closed his eyes. The continuous daylight of late spring above the Arctic Circle lured him into a timeless loop of study. Lunging forward as if catching himself in a fall, the young researcher woke. The teen wrestled with the weight of his head to read one more passage. Finally, his chest and eyes grew too heavy.

I need a nap. Just a nap.

Chin on chest, his breathing deepened and slowed.

The teen had dark-brown hair a few weeks past the need for a trim; he wore a blue coverall and a red T-shirt with the words Discontent Maker in block letters across the chest. Sleep captured his body, but his mind continued to search for answers.

The early-morning sun beamed a bright glare from the northeast panes through the projected graphics. Three of the four walls in Edger's room were glass and scribbled with illuminated marker pens displaying schematics, formulas, and design plans for various projects. The window closest to his chair held the unfinished outline of his research.

Morning rays lit the room, casting shadows. While Edger sprawled out in his chair, sleeping, the blue hue that enveloped him from the digital holographic display gave way to the warm yellows that leaped in and poured over his maker space. The light pushed the shadows to reveal an empty bed and pillows in the corner.

A snoring gasp and rattle interrupted the quiet. At five, Akiak entered the boy's room. Before him, Edger balanced in the reclining swivel chair, twisted and unnatural. The chair turned at a snail's crawl. His nose whistled a high pitch, followed by the sound of a leaking balloon. His left arm dangled with his knuckles nearly touching the floor.

Akiak whispered, Elisapee, shhh. Come here.

I'm on my way to pick up…

She hushed her voice at the sight of her son.

Oh my, I said I'm on my way to pick up a new harvest of bull kelp from the Kodiak sea farms.

Still in a hushed voice, Akiak asked, All the way to Kodiak Island?

Oh no, no, I've got a shipment delivered to Anchorage.

He said, You see our son, Tuniqtaq?

She raised her eyebrows.

Oh yes. He stayed up too late again last night.

Akiak bent his neck, lifted an arm behind his head, and dropped the other close to the ground, saying, How do you suppose he can sleep in such contortion?

I don't know how a fifteen-year-old body can relax like that. But I do know he needs to charge the tromp pumps for the hydro and aeroponics systems in the grow containers by this afternoon, she said, her volume increasing with a tone of frustration.

I'll get that done, Elis. He's working on that school project.

Akiak pointed to the old flying machine in the corner of Edger's room.

You know what he's looking for, don't you?

The unfinished outline on the glass highlighted the translucent bright-orange words Find the diaries.

Yes, I think so. I'll see if I can find it while I'm out today. You know he was supposed to prep the bull kelp to extract and feed the enzymes to the microbes.

Yes, and I was to have plenty of purified water at the right temperature pumping through the dry vapor heads to get the next crops started.

His eyes pulled his lips into a flat smile.

Our boy is already an accomplished maker. He built our grow containers and the tromp pump that produces the compressed air for the irrigation system. Aren't you sufficiently pleased with his work?

Yes, and he's going to clean those windows, she said and nodded toward the glowing ink of the petroglyph drawings in her son's notes on the glass walls.

A distant smile pulled her thoughts away, looking at the sketch of whales holding hands with a person. It was from stories passed down over the years. She regrouped.

He's still an apprentice. There's much to learn about microbial husbandry—

Yes, and purifying potable water from septic systems and salt water is also something he'll learn from me. Can't we celebrate his accomplishments?

They both looked at their boy as he rolled to his side in the chair without falling out. He settled again, motionless. Then slowly, the chair swiveled in the opposite direction.

Akiak said, "So what if he doesn't do well on this assignment? What if he loses his seat in the qargi? He still has a place in our maker community, doesn't he?"

Of course, he does. But we can't help him go further with his mechanical skills. He has the potential to be a master maker. He could lead whole communities if he…

She didn't finish her thought.

I know he has to look past the machines and understand how they change us, he said.

I read the evaluation from the instructor. It seems he hasn't proven he understands the consequences or the responsibility of his skills, responded Elisapee.

He's young. He will.

Let's hope the evaluators at the qargi see it that way, she said as her husband put his arm around her shoulders.

Elisapee stared deeply, then broke the silence.

You know what he has his friends call him?

Her eyes fixed on her son.

You know, his nickname?

Yeah, I do.

Why Edger? Doesn't he know that name was a derogatory slur back in our day?

I really don't think that bothers him at all, he said.

She scoffed.

What does?

"Something bothers us all at some point. He's like his amau. Let him have time to finish that school project," said Akiak.

But I love his name, Tuniqtaq, she said, voicing disappointment.

Akiak said, We both do. Stone oil lamp—it's a good name.

You know it means more than that. It means he's solid, warm, and brings light.

Her words lifted, and her arms cradled as if she held a baby tight.

Yes, it does. He's learning to be salt and light. He'll be a solid spiritual leader in his family and our community.

Edger started to drool in his sleep. The sunlight shot a beam through the stringy saliva from his lip to his shirt.

That's my boy.

Akiak's eyes pulled his lips into a genuine smile.

Edger, Elisapee said, shaking her head. They called us Edgers like we were ignorant or something. Those of us who lived at the edge of the world were not—

Please keep it down.

Her eyes glared at her husband, then disarmed, Not a bunch of backward people. We survived the collapse. That's what we did. We rebuilt it all…

Akiak took his wife's hand, turning her to face him.

Yes, I think he's very proud of that fact.

Shaking her head again, she said, Edger.

How long will you be gone? Akiak asked, forcing a louder whisper.

I'll take the Lift Pod. It has a full hydrogen tank. Maybe six or six and a half hours, she said.

You be careful flying the Lift Pod that fast, Akiak cautioned.

Elisapee winked.

It is fast.

She kicked her heel up and kissed her husband on the cheek, then left the house for her errands.

Akiak put on his hydrogen-fueled pulse jetpack to inspect his son's tromp pump. He stood on the open deck that overlooked the valley below. The mountain peaks held defiant snow. A cascading stream flowed from the rocks and spilled under their home. Lush green life encroached on the rocky slopes. Looking over the deck rail's edge, he switched on the oxy-hydro mix. Blue flames of the pulse jets flared, then trimmed into an invisible air thrust. Lifting, he darted under the house to examine the tromp pump's head.

The beams holding their home to the stone peak cradled an eagle's nest. Careful to leave it undisturbed, he rotated around the avian structure. The noise of the stream drowned out the sound of Akiak's pulse jet hover. Water flowed into a large pipe that ran down the face of the mountain stream to the valley below. The multiple tubes that sucked ambient air to mix with the cold spring water were clogged with moss. Inspecting each opening, he flicked away the clinging plant life. The tubes made a deep bellow like an electric-synthesized slide trombone. Another parallel pipe gushed water like a heavy fountain spout a few feet to the right.

Akiak followed the hydro tubes and descended to the bottom of the falling stream. A shorter pipe made hammering sounds. A ram pump pounded a rhythm. Shutting down the jetpack, Akiak checked the air pressure in the tromp.

That's more pressure than is possible, he said.

The tromp pump had something new installed. There was an extra air pressure tube with check valves.

Ah, he installed a ram pump to build more pressure. My kid knows his stuff. That's great compressed air from falling water. That's my boy.

Hours passed, and the daylight flooding his room brightened. Edger sat up from his sleep. A yawn and another stretch pulled him back to consciousness. The view from his room was nestled in mountain peaks and perched over a stream. The water spilled down the roadless slopes to the wilderness valley below. An eagle swooped by the wall of glass. Caught in a trance, eyes fixed on the raptor's flight, he shook off the distractions of the wilderness. He adjusted the window tint and returned to his studies.

He was working on a school research project. The holographic folder still floated in the room from the night before. With a swipe through the digital image, he opened the assignment docket. The text popped out. Pulling it toward him, he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. A quote from a twenty-second -century historian named Sivunmun Maniilaq read, The postapocalyptic world wasn't created by a cataclysmic event. Instead, it was best described as people leaving a dull party by slipping out without saying goodbye. Edger thought about what that meant. He had only attended a few birthday parties and holiday celebrations—not enough to truly understand this quote.

Tuniqtaq, look what I have.

Edger's mother carried in a package.

Is this for my research project?

Yes. It took some effort to get this here.

Scratching his head, he said, "Hey, aaka, what does it mean to leave a dull party?"

Straightening her son's bedhead, she answered, Oh, um, let's see…

She looked over Edger's shoulder and read the quote.

Giggling, she said, Oh yes.

She looked into her son's eyes to admire his innocence.

I've been to a few of those. It's when someone throws a party and wants everyone to have fun, but some guests aren't enjoying themselves.

Okay. Then what? Did you leave without letting anyone know?

Of course not. I told my friends that your father had already left, and I needed to catch up with him.

She ruffled his hair before leaving him to his work.

Now what do we have here?

Edger opened the package. Contained inside was an antique wooden box made with skill. He ran his fingers over the strips of wood pieces that formed the box. Each piece was inlaid seamlessly, forming the case.

It's been nearly a century since you were opened.

He pulled out a pen-sized laser tool, measured its dimensions, and muttered, Eight inches tall, seventeen inches deep, and twenty inches wide.

He looked for a latch to open it.

Nothing, at least nothing obvious. How do I…

The top bore the carvings of ancient Alutiiq petroglyphs. He traced the shapes—faces and spirals that each represented a deep, lost memory. These were the symbols of family tales that were a part of the mystique in the box. At its center were three figures: an outline of two whales with a stick figure of a person in the middle. They were holding hands—or rather flipper to hand to flipper.

He whispered, If the stories are true, inside are priceless treasures.

He looked at the bottom of the box. There were carved initials—FB—and a worn number.

Two-zero-two …something. Maybe a year. Twenty-twenty-something?

He could not make out the last digit.

Hmm, the box is at least eighty years old, I hope.

He gave the box a gentle shake. The dead weight of stacks of paper and a few more solid objects revealed themselves inside the wooden safe.

Maybe it's all here.

He flipped the box back over.

It's a puzzle box!

Pressing on the tight seams of the inlaid design, Edger probed for some release or catch. Lifting the box and slowly tilting it, the sounds of books and loose items shifted inside. These were different from what his ears sought to detect. A puzzle box would have a mechanism that might use gravity to lock the box.

Tick. Tap. Tuh-tuh-tuh. Following the sound of a ball bearing, he felt the slightest seam with his finger. He pushed, and the wood shaft protruded enough to grip its edge. A pinch and pull slid the long, slender piece of wood out. A ball poked through a hole that locked this first wood strip in place. Gravity set it free, but the box remained locked. He placed it at his workstation.

What can I move next? he pondered, feeling for another interlocking puzzle piece. Nothing. Nothing is moving.

He put his head on the table for a close-up view. He visualized what the slender strip of wood could have secured.

I've got it, he said, pushing down on the corner.

A block loosened, lifted, and then slid out. Staring momentarily, then imagining how the rest of the puzzle might be constructed, Edger pushed another piece loose. The lid relaxed.

Got it.

It teased with a gap but held shut. He repeated his first investigation and lifted, tilted, and listened. Then there was another tapping sound. He focused on the tapping for a thump on the case with a gentle shake.

There you are, he said, grinning.

A matching slender stick of wood was removed from the opposite side of the box. After a few more inquisitive tugs and pushes, the puzzle lock gave up its secrets.

Edger opened the box with the greatest of care. There were several journal-style books.

The diaries, he whispered.

One was labeled Flight Log. It had an aluminum cover with metal hinges. Blue plastic tarp material strips bound another roughly assembled set of pages from a recycled safety manual. This was also titled Flight Log in pencil. The smudged graphite markings suffered wear. A worn and rough diary was held shut by brittle, cracked rubber bands. The bottom corner was tattered. A hole appeared to have been burned through it.

Setting the bound books aside, a large manila envelope stuffed with eight-and-a-half-by-fourteen-inch papers was sealed with packing tape. He reached for his sonic cutter. The pocketknife-sized object was lifted from its charging stand and precisely sliced the packing tape. The flap opened. Pulling the papers out, Edger read the pages of reports from a court docket. They were filed as evidence against Fredrika Byrns. Under these were faded inkjet printouts of social media posts from the twenty-first century.

Age made the paper brittle. Edger put on gloves he used when working with delicate circuit boards. He lifted these to examine the next set of documents. There were a few letters and photos, some odds and ends, and giblets of things that did not make sense. Most unusual was a sealed packet of seeds.

Reading the label, he said, Heirloom seeds.

Pausing, he read the pouch.

Huh, he said and put it back in the box.

In another envelope was a set of data storage drives marked Video from IMEG-4 and Helmet Cams and some labeled Social Media Clips of Rika's Run.

Call Franco.

Edger's telecom ringtone sounded, then repeated three times.

High-low, Franco answered.

Low-high, my friend. Do you still have that vintage computer and adapter to view old data files?

Sure. What type of files are you talking about? Hologram 2.0 or crystal data sticks?

Older. Much older.

Oh, wow, I'll bring everything I have.

Franco disconnected.

Edger held a data stick up to the light.

What's your story?

Franco's place was in the valley below, at the other end of the mountain. He rummaged through his collection.

I have to have the right cords. I'll need an adapter for this one. Oh yeah, and this one needs a dongle. Cool.

He put several boxes of hardware and cords into his parents' brand-new ion drive Air Wagon convertible.

He jumped in the front seat and said, Let's go to Edger's place.

The Air Wagon streamed ionized particles through its vents as it quietly glided along the mountain ridge between his house and Edger's home. The wagon plotted its course, then piloted itself.

Franco opened the convertible glass top and let the wind tease his hair into a mop. The sun radiated heat on his face to be cooled by the snowcaps that passed nearby. His friend's home soon appeared. The wagon perched over the stream of falling water. The landing deck outside of Edger's room was empty. Franco circled once and landed.

High-low, Edger greeted.

Low-high. Here it is. Why do you want this junk anyways?

Why do you keep that junk?

Franco shrugged.

My dad collects stuff like this.

This isn't something he'll miss, is it?

No, no, it's all low p. No pressure at all. It's actually my collection.

Your collection? Since when?

I have hobbies.

Edger nodded and helped carry the hardware inside.

No sooner had the box been set down than Franco found the flying old relic of a wreck that was Edger's obsession.

Talk about junk. When will you finish this thing? he asked while reaching into the engine compartment of the antique.

Hey, hey, I've got my junk. You've got yours. Let's set up this computer.

Edger and Franco made space on his worktable and booted up the old system. Franco looked at the data stick.

Aha, this is an old USB-C drive. I think it was called a jump drive.

Franco connected an adapter to the data stick and inserted it into the old computer.

This will take a few seconds.

How long do we have to wait? asked Edger.

This thing doesn't move in milliseconds. It takes seconds.

Shaking their heads, they waited a moment.

Okay, there's the jump drive on the screen.

How do I open it?

Oh yeah, I forgot.

Franco pulled out a wireless mouse and turned it on.

Use this.

He demonstrated.

Low p, Edger responded.

Low p in truth.

Franco watched his friend open the file.

Okay, I gotta go. You've got this.

Franco slowed his exit by snooping around Edger's vintage project.

He said, This is what you call a quad, right?

Edger nodded and continued his work on the outdated device.

I'll see you in the augment class.

Franco left the way he came.

The video was from the camera system of an eight-decade-old class of flying bikes called quad-lifters. The digital video wasn't just from any quad but from one of the original IMEG-4s, which stood for Integrated Magnus Effect Gyroscopic Quad. The digital storage device was titled IMEG-4 and Helmet Cams. Multiple feeds from several cameras, including a helmet cam, were displayed on the video screen.

At first, the mouse was a bit awkward. Soon, he adapted to the device. Edger scrubbed through the frames on the vintage computer and stopped on a close-up of a helmet on a file titled Rika. He studied her eyes through the face shield. The backlit, heads-up instrument display ran across her face, and there was a glare, but her gaze was unmistakable. The sixteen-year-old girl in the video was unknowingly changing the world. Edger played the video of the girl on the amazing flying machine.

The girl and flying quad hovered in place against the updraft of a mountain peak. Rika's eyes were muted by the sheen of the high-tech face screen of her flight helmet. The screen reflected the pristine winter vista of mountains, sky, and wilderness below. Raising her hand to the side of her helmet, the face screen partially retracted, exposing her mouth. A tattoo marked her chin. Three vertical lines, both dashed and solid, tightly fanned out under her lower lip, featuring a symbol of a tiŋmiaġruk, meaning little bird. She was a young teenager with a focused determination on the purse of her lips.

The glare of her face screen showed the reflection of an eagle caught in a headwind, hovering in place. Rika and the eagle both surfed a thermal updraft at the edge of a mountain peak. They overlooked a valley crowned with peaks from the Brooks Range, which stood east to west for seven hundred miles and was mostly uninhabited. The eagle's wings stretched between gravity and wind to hold steadily in place.

Rika sat on the quad-lifter, spinning its four unique Magnus effect drive rotors, pushing just enough thrust to float next to the majestic raptor. The eagle's eyes searched for movement on the valley floor. Imitating the eagle, Rika held her arms out to the side. The wind rustled through her atigi, a coat made by her mother that was pulled over her flight suit.

Feathers fluttering in the wind, the eagle bobbed slightly and caught sight of a darting ukalliq, a snowshoe hare, scattering along a riverbed. The snow and rocks camouflaged the rabbit but, with each bound, betrayed its concealment. Then pulling its wings close to its body, the eagle dropped toward its prey.

Rika reacted. Pulling in her arms, she studied the eagle's trajectory. The bird passed through thin cloud banks, swooping along the snow-covered riverbed, and struck with smooth execution. Rika and her quad held still in the updraft. Her eyes locked in the distance, lost in the power of the eagle's flight.

A buzz, a beeping, and these words followed inaudible garble: Helo-5 has the suspect Rika Byrns on our long-distance LIDAR reflector. Helo-5 is currently in pursuit. Rika heard the scanner radio crackle and the Alaska Troopers' voices closing in on her position from a helicopter. Approaching from the mountain peaks behind, the silhouetted IMEG-X was near and in pursuit.

Not yet, Dr. MacWrenn. I need more time! she shouted.

At that moment, a glint of metallic light flashed briefly from a frozen mountain lake in the vast distance before her. Rika closed her face screen and took the lifter's controls. The quad's rotors slowed. Rika and machine tumbled toward the ground past the edge of the cliff. She pushed full thrust when she hit the layer of a cloud bank and skimmed the mist to hide her departure.

Edger stopped the video on a frame that showed Rika's face as she raced toward the mountain lake across the valley. Her determination was confident and undaunted.

This…this is the story of the beginning of everything, Edger muttered. These are the source documents, the pieces needed to unlock the truth behind the stories. This is where I focus my research.

Chapter 2

Piraksriaq: The Assignment

Chime. The lights dimmed. Chime. The lights softly brightened.

The study group session is about to begin. Are you ready to join the virtual study room? a disembodied voice gently prompted.

Wait…wait…, Edger said, taking his remote control and spinning around in his chair.

A typical maker space for Edger's generation, the room was equipped with the latest augmented reality learning platform: a ninth-generation holographic projection system. Edger pushed his piles of tools, parts, and clothing out of sight from the display space. Then swiping the remote through the air, an empty white room materialized for his study backdrop. The session began as three classmates projected onto a smoky swirl, solidifying in the virtual study space. The hologram system used light-absorbing particles and fractal lumens to bring his peers face-to-face. Their holograms cast shadows and danced with the room's light, activating the augmented classroom.

Can you believe the assignment? This is going to be tough! declared Franco.

Lily retorted, I think it's an amazing project. Identifying the most influential factors that ushered in the twenty-second century will be interesting.

Interesting was a word Lily used often.

Is that what you call it? Interesting? Yoshiba said.

Edger, Franco, Lily, and Yoshiba attended Instructor Aguirre's applied history course. The curriculum required studying source documents and investigating objectively verifiable facts and firsthand accounts. Learning of this type demanded the development of logical and critical thinking skills.

All four students lived in the same sector of a remote Alaska maker community; although each was in their own home, they sat in a virtual circle as if they were together in the flesh. Lily wore her cleanest gray -and-white maker lab coat, as did Franco and Yoshiba, but not Edger. He was too caught up working on his antique machine and looking through videos to dress for class. He was still wearing the dirty dark-blue coverall, unzipped, arms tied around his waist, with a red T-shirt.

Looking intently at Edger, Lily reminded the group, We only have a few minutes before Instructor Aguirre joins us to hear our project proposals.

Edger felt the stares of his classmates. He looked for his lab coat, but it wasn't in sight.

Then before he could form a defense, Lily added, What's that mean?

She was staring at Edger's T-shirt.

What, this?

He proudly pulled his shirt out flat with his hands.

She read, Disco tent maker? What's that?

No, that's not what it says.

Edger looked down at his shirt. Several sticky notes stuck to his chest, covering a letter n. The classmates snickered.

Uh, no, discontent, he said, surrendering to Lily's jab.

Franco jutted in.

I'm going to research how cancer was eradicated using sonic frequency processes.

The group nodded in approval.

As he pulled off the notes that clung from the previous night's study, Edger added, That's a good topic.

He continued to straighten and tuck in his T-shirt, all too aware that he was the only one not dressed for class.

I think the biggest twenty-first-century event was the postwar demise of the elite political structure that led to the creation of the liberty ethics laws, Yoshiba stated with an air of superiority.

Franco said, That's a bit dull—

Lily interrupted.

Hey now, no judgment. We're making academic proposals. Keep an open mind, she said. I think that is interesting.

Franco mouthed, I'm surprised.

Edger glared at him to stop.

I'm going to look at how geopolitical boundaries and governments lost power over the people, Lily announced as if she was very pleased with her answer.

During the Pacific Rim Migration in 2075, her parents were part of the global exodus from Russia and China through the Aleutian Island chain.

She concluded, Once people realized they were free, they exercised that freedom by forming their own communities.

Once again, all eyes seemed to drift toward Edger. Lily's eyebrows lifted. Franco lowered his. Yoshiba raised only one eyebrow with disdain. Edger struggled to come up with how he would describe his topic.

Uh, I—

Instructor Aguirre is waiting to join the study session, the home communication system chimed.

Instructor Aguirre appeared in the room.

Welcome, learners. I hope you have had ample time to discuss your project proposals.

Then the instructor turned to a wall in the room and called up a presentation screen.

We have been studying the universal freedom laws and inalienable human rights of the twenty-second century. Who can tell us what these laws did?

Lily answered, They preserved individuals' rights while doing no harm to other human beings.

Well done. And inalienable human rights?

Yoshiba raised his hand. The instructor nodded.

These laws protected everyone's right to self-determination while reinforcing doing no harm to others.

Good. How does the concept of free will play into these ideas? Franco?

I know this, Instructor Aguirre. Um, we're all born with free will. With this will, we have natural rights that are passive. Passive rights do not require anyone else to do anything for those rights. These passive rights are inalienable, meaning no person or government can legally take them away. Then active rights take something from someone to provide an active right to another. These rights infringe on free will. Preserving passive rights and restricting active rights balances each person's expression of freedom.

Good job reading from the digital archive. Now try again in your own words.

While the flustered Franco was answering the question, Edger's mind wandered back to the girl in the video. Her flight with the eagle was liberating. The very idea that he looked into the eyes of one of the first people in the world to experience that type of flight left him lost in thought. The instructor looked at him. Edger gulped with the fear of being called on next.

Give an example of a passive right…Lily.

Whew. Edger blew his breath in relief.

Lily said, The right to live where you want. The right to choose what you want to do for a living.

Edger held his breath and avoided eye contact.

How about active rights…Yoshiba?

Actively taking resources from someone to provide a resource to someone else against their will.

Dropping his head, Edger knew he would be next.

Okay, let's try this again, Franco. Tell me how people are organized to help others.

Edger's eyebrows lifted in approval of getting passed over again.

Altruism. We give of our free will to support others. So if we build a public building, we do it voluntarily. We choose to invest from our free will.

Edger realized he had an answer to this question. He wanted to add how all free will giving was kept private. He was ready to answer if called on.

Much better. The abolition of the Taxes Act supported this free will giving, added Aguirre.

Relaxing back in his chair, Edger watched the flow of the discussion move along.

Yes, well done.

The instructor continued.

We have also looked at the complete restructuring of the 3.0 education system, which focused on technical knowledge, skills, problem-solving, and thinking. How did that system differ from the education system of the twentieth and twenty-first centuries? Franco?

As his classmates participated in the academic discussion, Edger closed his eyes and reviewed the quad-lifter's video file in his mind.

Franco said, Uh, oh yes, I know. Educational system 1.0 prepared students for the industrial age of factory work. Then 2.0 prepared students for the information age. Today, we don't say, ‘I studied this or that.' We say, ‘I learned how to do this or that.' Today's 3.0 established PBL³ as the central curricula.

Please define PBL³, said Aguirre.

PBL³ stands for place-based, project-based, and problem-based learning, answered Franco.

Lily added, Sometimes, it's called real-time, real-world education.

The instructor's presentation screen showed clips of school buildings closing and maker centers opening.

Well done, Franco and Lily. People no longer live in cities as a primary concentration of population centers.

Images of bustling, crowded cities contrasted with models of quiet urban walking gardens among tall buildings.

The dependence on robots and artificial intelligence to provide for every need ended. In their place, society rebuilt around individual maker communities.

Finally, the instructor displayed the images of world maps with national lines redrawn and population centers dispersed.

Franco added, Yeah, in short, people used to live like chickens in a coop until they all decided they wanted to be free-range.

The instructor bobbed his head from side to side.

Crude but well said. So what happened? What were the most influential factors that transformed our world, either innovation or an event? Remember, we must study the past, reflect on it, and learn from it. Then we can move forward.

Edger remembered these words more than any other from Instructor Aguirre's class. Study the past, reflect on it, learn from it, and move forward—they stuck with him as guiding principles.

Aguirre continued.

When I call on you to describe your proposal, tell me why you think this was the most influential factor that ushered in the twenty-second century. Then suggest a title.

The instructor turned to Lily.

Learner Lily, please share with us your proposal.

Lily walked to the center of the virtual meeting space.

In the late twenty-first century, people started moving away from organized cities and towns. They started crossing borders of states and countries and spread out into small maker communities. This exodus rapidly shifted census data, rendering political representation boundaries useless. As a result, the political structure and boundaries disintegrated globally, and individual freedom became the most important political right worldwide. This massive people-driven decentralization changed everything, toppling governments and militaries alike. My topic title is ‘E Pluribus Pluribus—From Many, Many.'

Lily stood proud of her topic choice.

Nice title, said Instructor Aguirre. Your content describes a significant event in the late twenty-first century. First, please focus on what caused the population movement towards maker communities. Then think through how governments and social structures could completely transform in a few decades.

The wars happened, Lily offered.

Yes, but the exodus began before the wars went global.

The wars were complex. Globalists driven by banks and corporations fought nationalists. Most people fled these conflicts carrying handsewn American revolutionary flags as a symbol of international freedom. They gathered in maker communities to live free, Lily said, continuing to think about her project out loud.

Learner Lily, keep researching.

The instructor turned toward Yoshiba and nodded. Yoshiba stood where Lily was moments before.

Waiting for Lily to find her seat, he said, Trust!

His classmates jumped at the unexpected volume.

People simply lost trust the world over.

He waved his hands and began to pace.

Politicians competed for popularity and power. They depended on the submission of the masses. Hard work wasn't rewarded anymore. People simply lost trust and quit supporting central government power. People depended on their neighbors and not governments. Governments and corporations alike fought this disobedience. It was shameful how people were treated in the late twenty-first century.

How's that? prompted the instructor.

Infiltrated by technocrats. Governments from every nation attempted to repress, criminalize, and imprison their populations to prevent a mass exodus from the established political and economic structures. The repression was known as the Great Reset. Resisted by people, the Great Reset caused the Global Freedom Rebellions of 2041–2056.

What was the conflict? the instructor asked, prompting Yoshiba for more.

People stopped working for paychecks that generated income taxes. Instead, they started bartering and not using money. In response, banks and governments crashed world currencies and set up universal digital monetary systems. That failed too. As people stopped participating in political and economic systems, governments struggled to maintain power over people. Without collected taxes, it all collapsed.

What collapsed? the instructor inquired.

The political elite's power failed. Maker communities formed worldwide, and local people groups took control with home rule. The result was the Liberty Ethics Laws of 2068, Yoshiba passionately concluded as if preaching and sat down.

The instructor added, Those laws prevented the cultivation of loyalty and support through propaganda and taxation to build political power. But, learner Yoshiba, we're not finished with your proposal. I suggest you follow the money and investigate megacorporations and their role in this Great Reset. What do you suggest for a title?

Yoshiba had no answer.

"Lost Trust, suggested Instructor Aguirre. Think about your title. You have time to sort it out. You and Lily have similar projects. Please collaborate on your research. Find a specific area of focus to avoid redundancy."

Edger looked back at the unfinished quad in his room. He closed his eyes and waited to be called to present.

Now, learner Franco, please present your project proposal.

Applied sonic frequency rewrote the human existence, Franco stated confidently and sat back down.

Learner Franco, is there more?

Instructor Aguirre looked somewhat concerned.

Absolutely, yes, there is. There's much more!

Franco stood back up and listed the number of fatalities due to incurable cancers in the twenty-first century.

Using a combination of low and high eleventh harmonic frequencies, cancer cells were sonically destroyed without harm to the rest of the body. Incurable cancers were routinely purged from a patient in an afternoon. Once this process was perfected, human health radically improved. Frequency treatments were even successfully applied to viral and bacterial infections. Medical models of the early twenty-first century had drifted towards depopulation. The Nuremberg 3.0 codes reinforced the sanctity of life and consent for medical care. People started living longer and healthier.

Thank you, learner Franco. Your topic is going to be of interest to me.

As Franco sat down, he did a fist pump and whispered, Low p.

Finally, Edger was next. Taking a deep breath, he stood as Franco sat down.

I'm struggling to find a title.

He waited for a response from the instructor. None followed.

Edger cleared his throat. Ahem.

The quad-lifter caught his eye. Then with another breath, he started.

In the early twentieth century, the automobile gave the average person mobility. In over thirty years, this new mobility transformed communities where most people could access the automobile—a network of roads spread across the landscape. People working in cities began living in neighborhoods called suburbs. Then in the twenty-first century, Dr. Atavist Dold MacWrenn introduced the first viable transport that needed no roads, no infrastructure, and no regulated routes. This innovation allowed the world to stop developing and maintaining major road systems, saving trillions of currency units globally. Without Atavist's lifters, the twenty-second century wouldn't look that different from the twenty-first century, and…

Instructor Aguirre halted the presentation with his hand. Edger stumbled to a stop.

I know you have an original IMEG-4 quad-lifter at your house. You have been working on that ancient flying thing and trying to bring it into every project we do at school. How will you dig deeper and get to the how and the why this innovation changed things? Can you tell the real story of how people the world over adopted this technology so freely?

Edger knew what material he had in his possession. He knew the story of Rika's Run. He knew he could dig deeper.

Yes, I can.

Instructor Aguirre paused and tapped his fingers together as if contemplating a thought.

"Consider the title A Roadless World."

Edger smiled and nodded in agreement.

The lights pulsed, and the chime sounded.

The study session ends in five minutes, the home communication system warned.

The group said their goodbyes and vanished. Edger sat alone in his room.

Instructor Aguirre is requesting a follow-up consultation. Will you accept? the communication system announced.

Edger stood as if he wanted to escape. He nodded his head and looked for where the teacher would appear. The swirl of particles danced and formed as the light flickered. His instructor manifested with his back to Edger. He looked to his left, and his body followed.

Oh, there you are. Thank you for taking my visit.

Edger shrugged his right shoulder and held his hand out to offer a seat.

Aguirre shook his head and said, No, thank you. We need to talk about your presentation.

Edger nodded again.

There are limited seats at the qargi. You're at the age that you need to demonstrate that you deserve to hold your place.

The instructor walked to the window with Edger's notes on the glass.

I understand.

Do you? Why do you want to continue beyond what you have already learned in this program?

I…I can contribute.

"Yes, you can, and you already have. Your parents