EVOLVE By Barbara Rayne ~ Sample Chapters ~ ~~~ Publisher’s note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. Copyright © 2012 Barbara Rayne All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission from the author, except for the inclusion of brief quotations in a review. ~~~ Book and cover design by Marraii Design Cover wall image © Tanatat Cover spear image © Marraii Design Published by Barbara Rayne www.barbararayne.com
TABLE OF CONTENTS
CHAPTER 1 – THE EARTH CHAPTER 2 CHAPTER 3 CHAPTER 4 CHAPTER 5 ALSO BY BARBARA RAYNE
CHAPTER 1 – THE EARTH
I came home tired, shaken and apathetic. All I wanted was to lie down and sleep off that terrible day. El Hierro volcano caused a tsunami that literally swept whole countries from Canada over North America to Brazil away. It killed millions of people, crushed states, annihilated economies. The weirdest thing in that news was the death of the thirteen wealthiest people of the world. They died while in the meeting on Wall Street. They were not only the wealthiest, but also the most powerful people of the world. Among them was the owner of the Peterson Network, giant news corporation that had a monopoly throughout the Planetary State, and I was employed there as a TV journalist. Thomas called to say he is not going to come home, what I anticipated considering the news. He was a nuclear physicist working for the Ministry of Space Exploration. His job included secrecy, so I never asked him for more than he disclosed himself. We agreed upon that from day one, and I respected it. As I was tucking myself under the sheets, a strange thought ran through my head. How is it possible that the most powerful people of the world did not know about the tsunami? That is simply not possible. What happened? Why are they dead? What is going on here? The next day, I searched the internet and our database. No mention of the thirteen’s meeting. Our network did not receive any
news that would imply their meeting was to take place. Odd. I went to Gregg’s office. “Hi Gregg,” he lifted his head with his eyes swollen from tears, “Gregg, what happened?” “My wife… she was in Florida…” I didn’t know what to say in such a horrible moment. Florida was erased from the map. So many dead and I am investigating moguls. Ashamed, I withdrew, didn’t have the nerve to ask around stupidities while people were grieving their loved ones. The thought that something was behind this story stayed with me, though. Three days later, while I was getting coffee in the hall, a colleague from foreign affairs joined me. “Did you know Gregg’s wife died in the tsunami?” We talked about these terrible events and poor people faced with humongous water mass. “Listen, when thirteen of the most powerful people didn’t stand a chance, how could anyone else,” I added and she agreed, “I haven’t seen the announcement for their meeting taking place like usually, have you?” I sipped my coffee trying to look not particularly interested. “It wasn’t announced. It was probably a secret meeting. Those kinds of people have the right to their own peace. Don’t you agree?” “Absolutely,” I replied. Only, if peace is what you’re looking for, you don’t go to the Wall Street, I thought to myself; instead, you go to
some God forsaken place or some of those villas they owned across the planet. Nicolas Somerton, the owner of the S&N Corporation, the pharmaceutical giant; Michael Davis, the owner of the Associated World Mega Bank (which swallowed all the European banks plus American ones); Sergei Tomekovich, Russian billionaire, the owner of several airlines and the gas giant Russopetroleum, Huojin Wu, the owner… suddenly the electricity went off. What is this? I sat in the dark and waited for the electricity to come back on. But it didn’t. Now the panic kicked in. What are we going to do? Wait, or go home… after waiting for more than 3 hours, we decided it would be best to leave it all for tomorrow. The city was jammed beyond belief. Majority of people were going back to their homes. We were moving slowly with constant delays, so when I finally arrived in front of my garage, it was already night. I parked, locked the car and swiftly went into the house. Freakish silence and surreal darkness in the street ran chills up and down my spine. The electricity was gone, and I had nowhere to buy candles. Everything was closed. Maybe I have some stashed away? I did because one was burning on the table and my husband was reading beside it. “Honey, you’re home,” we kissed, and he offered me a slice of pizza he was eating. “Luckily, the power was still on when I got hungry,” he smiled triumphantly. I left my coat and handbag in the hall and joined him
instantly. Starved, I threw myself on that slice like a hungry beast. We talked about the volcano, the tsunami and the deaths of so many people. When I expressed my suspicions about the thirteen, he was intrigued. “It’s really strange that they weren’t informed,” he said after few minutes, “since the tsunami broke, they had several hours of notice. I know common people had no choice, but the thirteen could have gotten out with their planes on time.” “What do you think is going on?” “I don’t know… But for months we have been working on projects with such haste. These last few weeks were filled with pressure and anxiety that some people even had nervous breakdowns.” “John? His nerves are thin as it is,” I said wittily. “Not just him, believe me.”
CHAPTER 2
The electricity never came! Our life was turned upside down. We were used to household appliances powered by the electricity, the cell phones, the internet, the television… the banks were closed, the shops… everything stopped. We didn’t know how to fill up our days without the TV or the internet. Every half an hour, I checked my cell phone for signal. I turned on and off the switch. I felt crazy, beheaded… Thomas told me that some gas stations had power generators, so I hurried to fuel up just to get out of the house. Everything was paralyzed. We didn’t know how to live without the electricity. We didn’t know when it would come back on. Do others have it? Why isn’t it coming back on? The power generators were scarce on the market and were sold out instantly. Thomas got us one from his contact in the government. We had to be careful which appliances we turned on and when, because one mistake could shut it down. The shops were quick to adapt and slowly started working, but they accepted only cash, and with banks closed, cash wasn’t easy to come by. Luckily, it was summer, the sweat dripped from our foreheads, but the heat was something we could deal with happy it wasn’t winter and the heating season. And the days were longer, too.
The people were crazed out by everyday expectations being betrayed. More and more they gathered in front of their buildings or front doors and discussed the electricity or ideas how to manage until it comes back. It was the only entertainment. How the poor layers of the society managed, we didn’t dare to think. Thomas told me they had the electricity at work! We hoped it would soon reach our homes, too. But then, we realized that wasn’t going to happen. For a while, he thought they had the power generators, but then he found out that the government had the electricity the entire time. Why not the people, he didn’t know. Finally, it was clear to me that there was no malfunction. They simply plugged out the population from the electricity grid. They knew no one would manage because of the constant expectations that the power would come back. Clearly, we all did nothing because we didn’t think it was permanent. Our waiting and postponing was perfectly logical; it was surreal to think the power would never come back. Why wouldn’t it? As we had no news, no television, no phone, no internet, we had no information. Clueless, we waited for everything to get back to normal just like it was before. Why isn’t it coming back on? It has been 5 months, but the hope didn’t leave us. Unfortunately, 2025 was the year when the population of the Earth was plugged out from the electricity grid. Our lives were reversed, and we didn’t know how to bounce back. The banks started working, and the bills could be paid, but everything
was slow due to manual processing. They paid out cash, but limited to $200 per month. Small stores were first to get things started by writing the receipts by hand, but the mega chain stores stayed closed. Television disappeared. Daily newspaper was first printed out by my acquaintance Eric Spear who had the power generator. He brought us news about the shops that worked, when they worked and how, about those who would soon be opening their doors and those that were closed for good. He wrote about the bankrupts of the companies and personal ones. Manufacturers of technical goods, washing machines, microwaves, juicers and everything electrical, went bankrupt. The unemployment was enormous. The cars were driven by those who still had money. As I was unemployed, every day I kept busy by thinking of some ways how to get to powerful men, in order to find out if there was an explanation for the power outage. I did a lot of housework, cooked on a small gas cooker and read old books. As I could use the power generated electricity only for heating, the vacuum cleaner became unusable luxury. I took the carpets outside and smacked them with a broom to get the dust out. I took the carpet back to Thomas’ study, and as I was assembling it to its prior position, I saw a chunk of wood carved into the floor that could be lifted. By the help of a scalpel, I opened it and saw a pile of papers. Why is Thomas keeping this in the floor? I unwrapped the big scroll and saw some blueprints that made no sense. His work. Why was it under the carpet in the floor, it bugged me. As I kept opening the next one and the next one, they all had some
calculation, drawings… at the bottom of the page it said Apollo 1, then Apollo 2… What the Hell is this? By closely studying them, it appeared like it had something to do with underground bases. Why are they called Apollo? Weren’t manned missions to the Moon called Apollo? The last piece of paper that I unwrapped had only a date and a signature at the bottom. June 15th, 2025 Charles Wood. I looked at that signature and didn’t like the thought that went through my mind. Charles Wood, the only son of the billionaire who died in the tsunami on June 14th, just the day before, scientist, Adviser to the Secretary of Construction, a college professor. Why would he be at work the day after his father’s death, damn it? Ok, maybe he was, maybe he is that kind of person… maybe he hated his father… As soon as Thomas came back from work, I greeted him with questions. “First of all, why do you have it under the carpet? Are you doubting me? It’s enough to tell me it is some sort of top secret… no need to dig under the floor!” “Rosie, nobody knows those documents are here?” “You stole them?” I asked in shock. “I worked on those projects, but they are just in case… if I ever get in trouble,” now he got me worried. “Please, tell me what’s going on. Why would you be in any danger?”
“I’m not in danger… but I might be. I asked too much. I found out from a colleague in atomic construction department, who, due to the nature of my work, thought I was informed, that the cities are ready to be populated.” “What cities?” I was puzzled. “Cities on the Moon!” I stood there with my mouth wide open, my jaw on the floor, and shockingly mumbled, “We have no electricity, we live as savages, and they have cities on the Moon? Darling, if I didn’t know you as well as I do, I would think you are crazy.” “I know. He must have mistaken me for someone from my department who is in the know. The project we are working on is an extraterrestrial nuclear base. On the Moon. We have been working on it for 5 years, and now it’s finished. When you came home suspecting something was fishy with the thirteen’s death, I thought they might have relocated already. Then I researched as much as I could, and some dots connected.” “But the life on the Moon is not possible,” I protested. “It’s a lie, dear, a lie. For years, they have been preparing for life up there. But first, they had to kill the natives and conquer the Moon. Do you remember reading how, I don’t remember what year, the nuclear bomb was dropped on the Moon? Everything is just the same as here on Earth. Everything!” “Why do they need the Moon?”
“Dominion! Power, wealth.” “What about the water?” “There is everything up there, the food even grows faster than on Earth. It grows so fast that it will be brought back to Earth for selling, and they will have the monopoly up there. They will rule the Earth and the Moon. The entire population will be their slaves!” “You think they plugged us out on purpose?” I was enraged. “Of course. They want to create poverty, setbacks, demotion, and lack of information. They are playing with us and have been for years. All the weak links of the society will be eliminated.” “So what is the purpose of this showdown with the billionaires?” “They are moving them away gradually. They will be disappearing slowly, and by the time we finally get it, they will be out of our reach.”
CHAPTER 3
Life without the electricity was unbearable. We entered the cold winter and heated ourselves with gas heaters or wood, whoever had an option. After the water would boil in a big pot, I would pour it into my bathtub and add some cold one. Then I would bathe, wash clothes. In the shops, you could find heavy boxed irons in which you would put embers or red-hot charcoals or heat them up on the stove, so we were able to do some ironing. The hardest thing was getting used to living without the phone and the internet. I didn’t know what was going on in my neighborhood, let alone the world. It was unbearable not being able to call friends, my mom, to find out what they were doing or how they felt. If in trouble, you couldn’t get to the emergency. It all made us feel very anxious and insecure. People became extremely violent due to rising hunger and fear of the future. Generations used to the benefits of the electricity just couldn’t live without it… and someone was playing games with us. Some people, who didn’t have to live like that, thought it was a good way to teach us slavery. They took our lives and became our masters. When and how did we let them do that? Diseases started taking lives, hunger and lack of hygiene brought infectious diseases and population migrations. Big buildings with many floors were empty and devastated, and people slept at night in the basements or abandoned subways. The cities stopped looking like
civilization. The difference between the rich and the poor became enormous. We drove to the reception in honor of Thomas’ boss and his transfer to the presidential office. It was an elite part of the city, illuminated (not like before), with luxury villas and cameras. Security, secret services and police officers in civilian were at every corner. When we went in, the light was too strong for me. My eyes got used to candle light or weak light bulb, which we could afford once in a while thanks to the power generator. Electricity… for crying out loud! One man was talking on his cell phone at the entrance, and I pushed Thomas with my elbow, so he wouldn’t miss it. They had everything in there, even the expensive champagne. They weren’t hiding because they feared no one. Who do we tell? The miserable that cannot get to them? The neighbors who will shake their heads? The hungry that will tear us apart because we still have more than they do? These were not even the very rich people. These were petty potentates who provided the rulers of our lives the safety they needed. The people who guarded the system and did the dirty work, so the system would function as envisioned by the rulers. The rulers had ideas; these people made them into work. The reception was boring. Thomas knew these people, saw them every day, and I felt like the intruder. I watched those posh bodies and wanted to shake them up with questions about the electricity, the unemployed armies of people, about the cell phones. Why do their cell phones work and the rest of the city has no signal?
Thomas brought Dominic Santorin and his wife Murielle to say hi to me. I was happy to see them because it was 2 years since we last saw each other. Dominic Santorin was a well-known neurologist and a scientist, gladly invited guest to all major receptions. “Well… Rosie, how are you managing now that you are merely a housewife like me,” asked Murielle malevolently as she was dragging me away to the side, so our husbands wouldn’t hear that courtesy. “There’s nothing bad in that role if I had chosen it for myself. But, my dear, forced unemployment is not something that makes me happy,” I snapped back. “It’s way better taking care of your husband than dragging yourself on television.” “You are forgetting,” now I was really mad, “that I’m not home out of pleasure, and dragging is a peculiar choice of words for taking the television away from millions of people. You are speaking like the television is still there only I got fired. It’s gone! Or is it gone for you?” “Of course, it is,” she answered looking away. “So why the joy? Because we are in the same position now? I never resented you being a housewife, for God’s sake. I don’t plan on going around telling people what they should be doing.” “Ooooh, mad, are we? Do you miss your prior life? No info?” She was gloating. “No info, and yes, I miss electricity. Don’t you?”
“No, honey, because I have it,” and then she swiftly looked around to see if there is anyone who could overhear. “You do? How?” I asked stunned. “Not all parts of the city are without the electricity. But they are,” she laughed mockingly, “without the television.” “Do you know why? What happened?” I wanted to get out of her as much as I could. She sipped some champagne from the crystal glass as I waited for her answer impatiently. “No, I don’t know why, but I do know when it will come back on,” she finally said. “Well, when, damn it? Say it!” “Never!” She laughed so hard as she was walking back to our husbands. I stood there and felt humiliated, slapped, and then I snapped out of it and hurried back, so my behavior wouldn’t be suspicious. I whispered to Thomas that I wanted to go home because I couldn’t stand to be among these people any more. They were deliberately taking our electricity away after we got used to it so much that we couldn’t live without it. We lived our lives never questioning it. We took it for granted, and without it, we ran into obstacles on every step. Hospitals, schools, banks, insurances, state… While we were waiting for the valet to bring our car, I saw Eric Spear walking out and looking for the valet.
“Eric,” I hugged him and introduced him to Thomas. He was the owner of a big publishing company The Spear and a renowned political magazine The Truth. “It might be somewhat rude of me, but I have to take advantage of this moment and offer myself as a free worker to you,” we all laughed. “Rosie, I would be proud if you worked for my newspaper, but you saw what we do now. It’s not news, it a bulletin, a guide through misery. But…” He paused, “As I never give up, I hope to get things started. I’ll try to get two more generators, and maybe something will come out of it.” “Oh, that would be great!” “Listen carefully; I remembered your free offer.” “Sure,” we greeted each other nicely and just as he was about to leave, he pulled me by my elbow to the side. “You do know people are living without the electricity?” He looked me straight in the eyes, “I came here uninvited, and just wanted you to know that.” “I live without the electricity, Eric, although I was invited.” “Then I’ll come looking for you for sure.”
CHAPTER 4
Slowly people realized that they should get organized and stop fantasizing about the electricity coming back on. The hardest thing to get used to was the time it took for goods to be delivered, especially food. There were frequent shortages because less spoilable food was delivered by trains, which ran on coal. Everything was too slow for people used to dynamic, speed and availability of every information. Violence, theft and criminal were brought to order by the police and the army guarding the streets and the squares 24/7. At night, the city would go quiet, dipped into the darkness and with seldom windows lit up. Only a few dared to walk the streets in such darkness. Often, when I wasn’t sleepy as I was now, I would listen to some deep, muffled sound which I tried to decipher. The depth of it seemed like it was coming from the inner ground, spreading like the rustling of leaves. Where is it coming from? As the sleep crept up on me, one unusual sentence kept repeating in my head. “I am happy, I am happy, I am happy” kept going on in my head. Hmmm, then I guess I am. Two months after we saw each other, Eric Spear was at my door. “Come on in,” I kissed him on the cheek happily, “this is really a pleasant surprise.”
“You have to admit, I’m a man of my words,” he devilishly winked at me. “You certainly are,” I said putting a bottle of wine I got two years ago for Christmas in front of him, “but one thing worries me,” I continued, “how does a rich guy like you, who would make any journalist happy, end up in my home. Suspicious!” “Free work, remember?” “Hahaha, I remember, and I still feel that way. Only, there are so many like me nowadays, who would work for free, not to sit at home dying from boredom.” “Like you? No! There are not many like you,” I protested and started naming successful journalists, but he interrupted me, “it’s not about that Rosie, it has nothing to do with the journalism at all.” “I don’t understand… well, I offered my services as a journalist. What exactly do you need?” “A human being!” “Eric,” I stood up confused, “I don’t understand you at all.” Now he got up. “I suggest we sit again,” he said with a cheeky grin, “I’m not dangerous, I think I’m not crazy, but that might be a subject open for discussion, but I am happy, I am happy, I am…“
I looked at him with goggled eyes and jaw dropping, not being able to digest what I’ve heard. The very sentence that haunted me at night. “What is it Rosie? A familiar sentence?” “No, I’m just amazed you picked those exact words…” “I’m not. I have that exact sentence in my head all the time just like you and all of these miserables around us.” “Are you saying you have that exact sentence…” “Yes! And it’s not by accident in our heads.” “For God’s sake…” We both sat back in our armchairs and he continued speaking. “That sentence is not something all people are aware of, only some. How did I know you were the one?” “I have no idea,” I said. “By your behavior. You were not falsely courteous and smiling empty doll. Your reply about the electricity got me more than you will ever know. You said: I live without the electricity even though I was invited. Remember?” “Yes, I remember, but I am still not getting where you’re going with this.” “Today people do not resist as you did that night when I implied you might not know how people are without the electricity.”
“But, few minutes before that I experienced an outrage from an acquaintance. That would mean, by your interpretation, that even though she has electricity…” “Nooooo, she’s an inflated duck who is not yet under constant vibrations, although, as of yesterday, it’s their turn to be under it too. The obedient were under different treatment from the beginning.” “You’re saying we are under some influence?” “Absolutely!” “Ok. That seems logical especially because of that night sound I have been observing for months. But what has it all got to do with your work and me?” “I gather people who are not changed, who are not under the influence of what they are transmitting to us. Who are not yet molded.” “I don’t get out much, and I don’t see them as molded. They are more pleasant, no violence, somehow really happy, but I thought it’s because they have adjusted to the situation.” “No! They are changed.” Then he got up and went to his briefcase. I expected he would get out his newspaper, but instead he pulled out two t-shirts. On the front side, there was a sign of a spear or a prong.
“No, it’s not a prong, it’s a spear and at the end a letter E. “E like Eric, right?” “E like EVOLVE!” “I beg your pardon? We’ve just been sent some 100 years back in time; we live without the electricity, without the TV, without the information; with no democracy, practically under the military regime,” he laughed more and more, “what kind of evolution are you talking about, my friend?” “Sit down Rosie. The logo is excellent! It has my name and my surname in it. But, it also has a message that only the chosen ones know of. So, for the police or the military, the spear is a symbol of my surname – Spear – and the letter E is my name’s initial. For my friends, the letter E stands for the evolution and the spear is a symbol of piercing at the very heart of what they’re doing to us. We are mocking them by wearing it in front of their eyes, and they cannot do anything about it.” “I don’t understand. What freaking evolution when we are back at the ape level. Almost no one is working, we do not decide on anything, we do not know anything, and we listen to them like blind men. They
destroyed our countries, killed of populations and provided themselves…” He interrupted me. “Do you notice how people are always smiling?” “I do, but…” He interrupted me again. “Rosie, only yes or no, ok? So, I’ll ask you again, do you see people always smiling, all the citizens?” “Yes.” “Do you see they have no empathy?” “Yes.” “They appear very nice, but underneath they do not feel, right?” “Yes.” “Do you see there is no more aggression, everyone is constantly apologizing and nobody yells?” “Yes.” “What do you think, why?” “I don’t know…” “Do you have a sentence I am happy in your head?” “Yes.” “Constantly, right?” “Yes.”
“I found out that they are transmitting a frequency at night that is affecting our mind. Right after that sound you noticed, the sentence starts to repeat itself constantly. Over time, people started losing empathy. Nothing can snap them out of this smiling dream. They don’t ask for their loved ones who are not right beside them. The fear is heightened. You must have seen how, when police officer yells, some start shaking, others shrivel and things like that. They manifest tremendous fear on slightly elevated tone of voice.” “I noticed they are full of niceness and caution not native to them. As far as fear goes, I wasn’t aware of it until you said so. Now I remember seeing examples of it.” “Now, the question is, why are you not like them?” He gazed at me waiting for my response. “I have absolutely no idea. Sometimes I am, sometimes I am not. For instance, it’s been quite a while since I wanted to strangle someone sluggish in front of me while I was waiting in line at the bank.” “No, you’re not. You see the world you live in. They don’t anymore. Some don’t remember living better before. No, they claim this is the best time of their lives.” “Luckily, I didn’t run into those ones,” I added. “Oh, you will. More and more people are very happy with this way of life. They consider it humane, caring about the poor, protecting them. They see dictatorship as protection.” “But, Eric, what has all that got to do with the evolution?”
“I have a group,” he lowered his voice, “of ten people. We meet every day from 8am until noon. Not all of them are journalists, and they don’t work for me. We want to tell the people our suspicions, but without endangering ourselves. At the same time, we are support to each other. If you want to join in, I’ll be expecting you tomorrow morning.” After brief thinking, I decided, “I will be there!”
CHAPTER 5
When I arrived, few minutes before 8am, the office inside the printing shop was full. Six women and six men, including Eric. I introduced myself to everyone and sat on a free chair. Eric started speaking. “Dear friends, you’ve met Rosie, and because of her, we will be repeating some stuff just like we have with all of you. So, for the unknown people including the police, we are in a meeting agreeing on tasks. Those not employed here, came to a journalist course due to the possibility of employment. About the vibrations they are transmitting from 10pm until midnight, we have said everything. They are changing us, turning us into smiling, kind and obedient people who do not ask questions, have no complaints to the way of life they want us to have. The sentence I am happy is like a broken record in our heads all day and all night. As soon as you make a pause in talking, it surfaces, while you listen to others, it runs and runs, when you are doing something that doesn’t need all your attention, it is there. Through it, the vibration changes your character. It slows down your ability to think, it enhances fear, it kills empathy, and it lowers your aggression. When I say it lowers your aggression, I mean it kills love, thus; it kills hate, anger, jealousy and so on. Without love, there is no hate.” “Why did they set back everything? Brought the misery,” I asked. “Because, well informed person, wealthy or situated, has no fear of losing his existence, he’s not obedient, has solutions. He is not easily
controllable. Terrified humanity without the roof over its head, sent back to the primitive way of life it is not used to, is ideal for manipulation. Creating via vibration an obedient man, meant making a selection of population, killing maybe half, and sedating the other half into obedience with no resistance. We don’t know their ultimate goal, don’t you forget that!” “Evolution,” he looked straight towards me, opening up his jacket showing his t-shirt with the symbol, and then all the others did the same, “is our only chance, ladies and gentlemen. This sign we wear is our mark of recognition. That’s how we’ll know over time who is on our side. We will not always be able to wear it on the t-shirts if this gets massive, we will not be able to cover our true work with few pages of our newspaper, we’ll have to have it on a piece of paper maybe, but it’s some distant future, so I will not waste words on it. And now, the e v o l u t i o n! The thought made by the vibration can be stopped with practice. Once we manage to kick out the sentence I am happy, we stop being suggestible to the entire package of vibrations it carries. All the emotions in our body that change have some strange connection to that sentence. So, by fighting and stopping that sentence, we are evolving into a new human being they cannot control. They do not own us. Considering that many, if not all present, are successful in stopping it, we can see what they have in line for us. It’s a struggle we do every day, all the time, and we don’t succeed always. Rosie, you must not give up if you are not good at it. Every time you do succeed, at least for a while, you dogged their net. In the beginning, it seems impossible, but in time, you will see you can do it. First time you do beat the sentence, and stop it on its very beginning, let’s say when it starts I am, and you
stop it, something inside you changes. Some people are not completely caught up in it, but some unfortunately are. You will recognize them in time, and to them, you will, under no circumstances, show how different you are. Remember, never expose yourself. Never! Smile, be nice, don’t show anger and speak slowly, act dumb, make deliberate stances in speech, play by the rules. By portraying journalists, we communicate with people, and we find out from their behavior, unfortunately, what has changed in their psyche, and when we do see that it’s not one’s personality, but a part of several people, we know it’s a part of the change. We introduce that change to everyone in the meeting, just like we do when we introduce a person’s name suspected to be like us. I told you about Rosie long before she came here. We cannot afford to make a mistake because it is our death. Why do we study people?” He paused. “It’s the only way we can find out what kind of system they are planning to impose, what kind of people they are creating, and the most important thing, what their goal is. We still don’t know that. We will not be writing about the vibrations yet, because we would be eliminated without knowing the goal of our enemies. Let’s make several pages now,” he showed at the three men beside him, “and you explain Rosie what she wants to know.” “Ann, how do I do that with thoughts… stop those sentences?” “Become still and listen to your thoughts… all you’ve got is that sentence predominantly. There used to be millions of sentences in our heads, but now it is just that one. The others appear bashfully once in a while, but mostly it’s just that one. To successfully stop it, it takes time
and practice. Sit down and listen. When it emerges, try to simply change it or say NO, and for a moment, it stops, and then starts again. Take several days and just practice. You will catch it constantly nagging, but while you’re, let’s say, in bed at night, when those vibrations start, try to fight it knowing they’re hunting you. I actually benefitted from that. Oh, no you won’t, I thought, not me.” While I was making lunch and waiting for Thomas to come home, I was trying to stop that Goddamn sentence. I listened to my own thoughts, but except that sentence and some background: “do I need more salt?” and then again “I am happy”, “maybe it’s too salty now”, “I am happy”, almost nothing penetrated my mind. I am happy ruled my mind and no other world existed. Brief flash about what I’m doing and then the same chorus over and over again. No… you won’t I spoke in my thoughts whenever it appeared. And it would stop. I continued preparing food satisfied with my success and to my horror realized it’s repeating all over again. It was impossible to make myself think of anything else. I wanted to think about Thomas. Is he near home by now? But… with a lot of trouble and stopping this broken record, hardly any thought could pierce through. I finally succeeded. Repeating stayed, but there was progress. If I only for a moment gazed off, I would catch it back in my head repeating. Oh, what an effort! What a tedious job. What a fight! After lunch, I asked my husband: “Thomas, do you have a constant sentence in your head saying I am happy?” He started laughing. “No!”
“You don’t?” “No, what kind of question is that?” “Well… I’ve got that sentence repeating itself constantly like a broken record.” “Hmmm… I don’t listen to what’s in my head, darling. You’ve got too much time on your hands. I don’t get it; you’re bugged by being happy?” “I’m not bugged by being happy, but by my mind repeating that I am happy.” “Then you must be veeeery happy,” he laughed hard. “Thomas, I mean it, please, calm down and listen to your thoughts.” “Rosie,” he was still laughing, “no way. What’s the matter with you?” I observed him and realized he was constantly smiling. He was certainly not the type who would be merry for no reason. How didn’t I see that? “Try, for meee,” I nestled around him. “Ok,” he made a serious face and after just a second, burst out laughing. I waited stone faced and fought my own sentence in the head. He finally calmed down and said, “Yes, now your sentence is in my head, too.” “It’s not my sentence, Thomas! We’ve all got it in our heads!”
“Rosie, I want to take a nap after lunch. Please, darling…” He looked at me pleading that I leave him alone. “All right,” I gave up. I realized that I couldn’t influence Thomas and that he simply didn’t see what was going on. I watched him become slower and slower in his behavior, saw how he hesitated in making decisions, how he couldn’t grasp what I was making a fuss about. He was smiling and kind, never agitated and extremely slow in thinking. I was too quick for him and, in numerous cases, he asked me to slow down and explain what I meant. He processed so slowly. At the beginning, I was desperate, felt so lonely. Every conversation tired him down if it made him think. I didn’t understand how he could play cards or chess, what needed thinking, and couldn’t comprehend what was going on around us. He simply didn’t see it. He was happy and believed that the electricity would eventually come back, and then he would watch movies, but this state was also all right with him. He believed we were a humane, democratic society. When I managed to stop the sentence nagging in my head, for the first time I saw the reality for what it really was. My husband looked different. Every change on him, that I previously failed to notice, smacked me right in the face. Then I remembered my mother and realized how I didn’t even think about her these past 6 months. I didn’t know whether she was alive or dead, but the worst of all was that I didn’t remember that I had a mother during that time. That shook my ground.
People around me had so much in common in their behavior that it
looked
rather
surreal.
Everyone
approached
each
other
condescendingly, almost as if they were embarrassed to divert attention to themselves. They were smiling, patient and slow. They didn’t want to bother themselves with thinking about politics or future. They lived without grudges and ideas what should be changed. They forgot about everyone who wasn’t there beside them, who was out of sight. When I would bring up how I haven’t seen my mother for a long time, they would comfort me by saying I would surely see her eventually and that she must be fine. Not even then would they remember their family or someone they haven’t seen for a while. I tested Thomas about it one day: “I’m worried about my mother, Thomas. I don’t know how she managed without electricity and if she has assets to live.” “Honey,” he hugged me, “I’m sure she’s all right,” he didn’t remember his. He didn’t! “And what about yours, Thomas? Do you know anything about her?” “I believe she managed. She’s a smart woman.” “Why don’t we go for a visit? You got the coupon for the fuel on government’s gas station,” how slowly he was contemplating; I thought he couldn’t remember where they lived. Then he finally answered: “It’s not enough fuel.”
“You know it is, have you forgotten that we used to fill up the tank, it would last us to get there and back, and still drive around for a while?” “I’m off to get a drink,” he tried to bail on me. “Thomas, do you still work where you used to?” I jumped him with this question. He looked at me like he didn’t understand what I wanted from him. “Well… yeah… I work…” And then he got up and left without saying goodbye. Everyone hated topics that asked for some decisions, actions, thinking. I tried to be like them. Walked slowly, always smiling, pretended to think long before speaking and didn’t make them think. Now I only observed them and kept track of changes. ~~~ End of sample ~~~
EVOLVE Out on Kindle ~~~
ALSO BY BARBARA RAYNE
21 Erased, (dystopian novella) Kindle Edition, October 30, 2011 21 Erased, (dystopian novella) Paperback Edition, November 8, 2011 Evolve, Kindle Edition, January 11, 2012 Evolve, Paperback Edition, January 17, 2012 Nette, Kindle Edition, March 12, 2012 Nette, Paperback Edition, March 21, 2012 Barriers of the New World, Kindle Edition, 2012 Barriers of the New World, Paperback Edition, 2012
See more about the author and forthcoming books at www.barbararayne.com