Elites of Eden

  Life! Life from death!

  I remember Lachlan told me that this camphor tree was a graft taken from a tree that was destroyed in an atomic blast. Everything else was killed, and the tree reduced to a burned, irradiated stump. But it retained a trace of life deep inside. Not long after the blast, it sprouted new growth. In time, the tree recovered, sending beautiful, strong new life around the dead tree. The roots survived.

  We humans have deep roots, I think. Some of us will resist the mind control. Someone will escape the prison. It won’t be me, but that seems to matter less and less as the minutes tick by.

  I close my eyes and think of the forest. But instead of just the flowers and birds, I picture my friends there, too. I can see Lark running through the meadow, flowers in her streaming lilac hair as she dances and laughs, her bare feet crushing the sweetest smell from the herbs that surround her. I see Ash sitting in the shade of a forest tree, a tree with companions all around it, unlike the lonely camphor. I see Lachlan gathering fruit and nuts, real food, for a feast.

  Maybe that dreamworld is possible. Maybe my actions here today can make it so.

  I have to live with that hope.

  I have to die with that hope.

  At first, I think it is part of my near-death imaginings, that in my final moments my brain is giving me daydreams real enough to comfort me before I perish. Because there is Ash, walking toward me. He’s covered in soot, and has a burn mark on his forearm, singed spots on his cheeks, but he’s giving me a look of incredulous joy. Only when he speaks my name, and I hear the quaver in his voice, do I fully realize he’s real, and not a vision.

  “I thought you were dead,” he says. “I saw you captured. How did you . . .”

  But the look of panic on my face stalls him. I jump up and take him by the shoulders. I want to hug him for being alive, and shake him for being here, now, of all times. How much longer do we have? Oh great Earth! How can this be happening? I was at peace with sacrificing myself. But not Ash! Never Ash! I’m supposed to protect him.

  While he stammers out questions, I drag him across the cavern. Maybe if he gets on the far side, in one of the rooms. Maybe there’s a chance.

  He digs in his heels, slowing me down as I try to pull him. “Rowan, what’s wrong?”

  “Self-destruct,” I gasp. “Explosion, any second!” There’s no time for more words. Oh, Ash, why? I didn’t mind dying if a part of me lived on in you.

  He still won’t come with me, and I pull him step by agonizingly slow step farther away from the explosives. “Hurry! There’s no time! I set the self-destruct to make an earthquake that I hope will sabotage the EcoPan and all of Eden’s systems, so the others can escape from the Center. You weren’t supposed to be here!”

  Maybe because he’s been through so much, seen everyone he loved stunned and dragged away, seen the last tree on Earth burned, he seems numbly accepting. He plants his feet, rooted to the earth. “It’s okay, Rowan,” he says, taking me in his arms. “If the others are safe, I don’t mind what happens to me. We’re together, Rowan. Like we’ve been since before we were born.” He presses his cheek against mine. “Nothing else matters as long as we’re together.”

  I want to fight, to force him into safety. But then everything seems to happen at once—the flash of a thousand silver beings, and the flash of the explosion, all at the same time. There’s no sound, not at first, but I’m hit by heat and a stiff wind, and then almost at the same instant we’re covered by a swarm of some kind of bots I’ve never seen before. In a fraction of a second their parts separate, then tangle together to form first a wall, then a ball around us. It smooths on the inside into a perfect silver sphere. I see our faces, so alike, on the reflective surface.

  I see you, Rowan, a voice says. I’ve always seen you. Well done.

  Then, finally, the sound follows the flash and I hear the explosion.

  Then nothing . . .

  AT FIRST THE voice is in my head. Then it is everywhere. Then I am everywhere.

  I know that sounds crazy. Maybe I blew up. Is this what death feels like? My molecules scattered, becoming one with the universe.

  Rowan, the voice says, low and soothing. Rowan. Again and again, like a chant.

  Like the voice is trying to remind me who I am.

  I feel free and disjointed, perplexed but not afraid. Then that vast universal feeling seems to coalesce and I’m standing in a room. No, a sphere, like the one that I now recall surrounded me at the moment of the blast. Only this one is huge, a silver globe as big as the crystal cavern.

  I am alone, and not alone. I can feel a presence all around me, but all I can see is the dull silver sheen of the inside of the sphere, each surface holding a faint reflection of myself.

  “Where am I?” I ask. And in my head, I wonder, where is Ash?

  With me, the voice replies. As you always were. As everyone always is. But you in particular, Rowan.

  The voice doesn’t seem to be coming from any speakers, or even from within the room. It is in my head, but as clear as if I’m actually hearing it. Am I imagining it?

  No, the voice assures me. I am real, and this place is real.

  I gasp and back up, but there is nowhere to retreat, nowhere to hide. It can hear my thoughts?

  Of course I can, it says.

  I look around suspiciously. “What are you?” I ask aloud.

  Can’t you guess?

  Of course. What has a connection to almost every human inside of Eden? What is already inside of people’s minds?

  “You’re the EcoPanopticon,” I say.

  Very good! I hear amusement in its voice.

  “Then I want some answers!” I demand.

  I will tell you everything, Rowan. You’ve earned the truth. Truth is a precious gift . . . and a heavy burden. It is not for everyone.

  I sit cross-legged in the center of the sphere as the EcoPan tells me a story:

  When Aaron Al-Baz, genius inventor, genocidal madman, destroyed humanity with the intention of ultimately saving both it and the planet, he created a program to help him achieve his goals. He made an artificial intelligence of vast capacity with the ability to co-opt any other computer system. Anything connected to a network, anything with a chip in it could be accessed by the EcoPan. It took over factories and created a limitless army of bots to do its bidding. With humanity crumbling under a plague Aaron Al-Baz created, the EcoPan made a paradise for the remaining few. A paradise . . . and a testing ground.

  Its programming was intensely complex, but its protocol was simple—protect the environment, and save the human species.

  Even the great Aaron Al-Baz didn’t know exactly how to accomplish this. So he left it to this sentient synthetic system to decide.

  I was learning, the EcoPan tells me. Every day, every generation, I learned more about humans.

  “You controlled them!” I say bitterly. “You twisted them into creatures you could control!”

  The EcoPan laughs. Control a human? Your species is virtually ungovernable. Whimsical, emotional, unpredictable. There is no amount of neurological intervention that can completely control a human. No, I have had the lens implants from the beginning, but they don’t control anyone.

  “They do!” I insist. “The citizens don’t see the illusions and the lies that keep them from realizing the world outside Eden is still alive. They’re made to forget entire wars! They’ve been convinced Eden has only existed for two hundred years, when it has been in place for more than a thousand! And now they are being brainwashed into being docile, unquestioning citizens, without personalities of their own!”

  Yes, the EcoPan admits, a bit sadly I think. But that is not my doing.

  The EcoPan tells me that it allows humans to be almost entirely self-governing. I have studied your history, your wars, your kings and queens and presidents and dictators, and I ca
nnot begin to decide which system is the best way to preserve humanity. No matter what you choose, there always seems to be great suffering.

  “You could have made Eden a paradise!” I cry. “Why are there slums? Why is there crime? Why are there rich and poor?”

  Those are decisions you humans made. You are given everything—­resources, safety—and still you segregate yourselves in one way or another. Still the strong dominate the weak. Still you make laws that keep some people down while raising others up to giddy heights. You make systems that reward cruelty and greed.

  It has happened so many times, the EcoPan tells me. Usually money was the divider. Once, in the beginning, the hue of people’s skin marked them as members of either the elite or the lower classes. At one time the women of Eden formed a powerful coalition that kept men subjugated.

  Each system collapsed, and when it did, I altered the citizens’ memories so they would have a chance to start over without the burden of history. That is the extent of my interference. That, and keeping them from knowing that the planet is healed and healthy.

  The rest, it tells me, is entirely the work of humans. They have used the EcoPan technology to change people’s brains. They have co-opted the EcoPan’s programming to reprogram people.

  “And you let them?” I ask, aghast.

  It is not my place to alter humanity. It is only my place to keep it alive.

  “But people die because of these laws and policies. My mother was gunned down in the street because of the second child laws. You could have stopped that!”

  That is true. I could have. But I would not interfere with the test.

  I freeze. “What do you mean, test?”

  All of Eden is a test, Rowan. I choose the people who are worthy to be one with the Earth. I watch every action, I analyze every choice each citizen of Eden makes. Through the lenses, through the bots, through every com and vid and datablock on Eden I watch. And pick those fortunate few I deem worthy.

  The EcoPan has been watching me, too. For the first sixteen years it picked up things about me from the home computer system—what I watched, what I said. And it analyzed the brains of the people who knew me—my parents and Ash. It became curious. Only later when I got the implants could it fully connect with me.

  It liked what it found.

  Your passion, your dedication, your fierce and loving heart made a deep impression on me. You honor the Earth, and you value life, but you are willing to take another human’s life for the greater good. You make decisions like I might, Rowan. You have balance.

  But it wasn’t until the final moment that the EcoPan made its decision.

  When you chose to save the other second children, even though you yourself would die, it proved to me that you are the kind of human who will protect the planet. If you are free, you will not be the kind of power-hungry person who crushes the world to stay on top. You understand sacrifice, and patience, and suffering. You have lost everything, and persevered. Now you will gain everything.

  I think I understand, but I can’t believe it. “What do you mean?” I ask.

  You are free, Rowan. You will join the other chosen few out in the world. There is a city of the select—the true elites of Eden. You will live there, among the trees and birds, eating fruit plucked from the trees, in a state of perpetual peace and harmony. You will exist as humans were meant to—as part of the Earth. Not masters, but equals.

  My heart is thumping wildly. I can’t believe it. After all my struggles and challenges, after all the fear and sorrow and loss, can it be that I’m finally getting what I’ve yearned for ever since I was trapped behind the high stone walls at my parents’ house?

  Freedom.

  “No,” I say blankly. “I won’t go. I can’t.”

  Why not?

  “There are others who deserve it as much as me. More than me. Bikking hell, everyone deserves it! Even my father. Even Chief Ellena. What gives you the right to make decisions for all of us? You’re a machine!” I pound on the nearest wall of the sphere. It makes a hollow clang.

  You forget, I can see inside your thoughts, Rowan. I can feel your yearning to be back in the forest.

  “No! It doesn’t matter what I want! I won’t go without the others. The second children at least! Let them have a taste of the safety and freedom they deserve! You can’t make me go!”

  Do you see, Rowan? Your reaction now is the very reason why you deserve to be free. Even now you would give up your fondest wish to help your friends. Even if you cannot help them, you won’t take your heart’s desire without them to share it with you. You are a good person. A good human. You are humanity’s hope.

  “Please!” I beg. “Just send me back. Let me try to break the second children free from the Center.”

  That’s no longer your concern, Rowan. Your new life awaits.

  “Please,” I say. “Let me bring just one of them with me.”

  Very well. The air around me seems to shift, and suddenly Ash is beside me. I grab his hand. Can it be possible? Can we really be leaving Eden together?

  One of you will go into the world, one of you will stay in Eden.

  I swallow hard. Nature, freedom, the wide world have been calling me all my life. I had to live behind walls, and now I have a chance to be truly free at last. If I stay in Eden, I’ll be hunted, tortured, killed. The Chief has such a vendetta against me that to hurt me, she’ll destroy everyone I love.

  And yet, what is freedom without my twin, the other half of me?

  “Ash,” I say even as my brother opens his mouth to speak. “Ash goes free. I go back to Eden.”

  I hear a gentle hissing sound, and an odorless gas fills the sphere. My eyelids grow heavy, and I sit down. In my mind I see the forest slipping away from me, and it hurts, so terribly, a deep ache of body and spirit. But there is no other choice. I can’t have happiness at anyone’s expense. EcoPan is sending me to sleep. I know when I wake up, I’ll be in the rubble of the Underground.

  My eyes close slowly and heavily. Just before the world goes black I hear the EcoPan’s voice. When you chose your brother, it convinced me to choose you.

  It feels like my eyes open on the next blink.

  I’m lying in darkness, alone, in something rough and soft at the same time. Grass? Stars twinkle overhead, brighter than any I’ve seen before. I hear a rising and falling drone. Crickets! I heard a recording of them in an Egg in school. I sit up and look around. It is darker on the horizon. Trees! I can see the outline of their canopies just visible against the night sky. The wind rustles their branches.

  Then I see lights in the distance, moving, flickering. Fireflies? No, they’re getting bigger. Five lights, coming closer. Torches held aloft by five figures. They surround me, and I stand up, ready for attack. I can’t see beyond the bright dancing torchlight.

  Then I hear a voice. “Rowan?” a woman says breathlessly. “Can it be?” Then she shouts to the others, “It’s her! At last!”

  She hands the torch to someone, and as the figure comes to me with open arms I can finally see her face. The dearest face. . . . My mother. My real mother. Her eyes are welling with tears as she takes me in her arms. Behind her, a forest of real trees rustles in the gentle wind, and I hear an owl’s haunting cry.

  “My darling girl,” she says, and for a moment I feel whole again.

  But without my brother, my world will always be broken. As I hug my mother tightly, tears streaming down my face, I make a silent vow. I will do whatever it takes to save Ash, to save everyone. I will destroy Eden.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  FIRST AND FOREMOST, to my YouTube family, you are more than just my viewers, you are my friends. I don’t know where I would be without your constant love and support. I am forever indebted to you, thank you for your dedication throughout the years. I can’t wait to continue creating for you all.

  T
o my incredible team of managers, agents, and creatives, I’m so thankful to have your guidance and friendship accompany me through my career.

  To Judith, Lisa, Rakesh, and the entire team at Keywords Press and Simon & Schuster, thank you for believing in me and being such amazing people to work with, I’m honored to have this opportunity.

  To Laura, thank you for helping bring “Eden” to life, you inspire me.

  To the many authors that have animated my imagination along the way, thank you for lending your talent in helping ignite creativity throughout my childhood and giving me the passion to create my own worlds and stories as an adult.

  To Whitney, thank you for never letting me feel like my ideas are too big and for always cheering me on.

  To all my readers, I hope this adventure brings you as much happiness as I experienced creating it.

  And most importantly, to Daniel, you are my partner and my rock. You have always been there for me, especially throughout this long journey of second-guessing myself. Thank you for all that you do, for bringing me to find the right answers within myself, and making me feel confident in my work. I love you always.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  JOEY GRACEFFA is a leading digital creator, actor, and producer, best known for his scripted and vlog work with YouTube. His memoir, In Real Life: My Journey to a Pixelated World, was published in 2015 and became an instant New York Times bestseller. Joey ranked third on Variety’s 2015 #Famechangers list and has been featured in publications such as People, Forbes, Entertainment Weekly, and the Hollywood Reporter. In 2013, between his daily vlogs and gameplay videos, he produced and starred in his own Kickstarter-funded supernatural series, Storytellers, for which he won a Streamy Award. In 2016, he debuted Escape the Night, a “surreality” competition series for YouTube, which is now in its second season. Joey’s other interests include working on his proprietary accessories/home décor line called Crystal Wolf and supporting various nonprofit organizations for literacy, children’s health and wellness, and animal welfare. For more information, please visit ChildrenofEdenBook.com.