Space exploration: the astronaut's mission, carrying seeds of every living thing from earth, is to recreate a new Earth.
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The plump woman sitting in the windowless office sighed heavily, her legs buckled beneath their wide load, her breathing labored with stress. Tense, stretched to her limit like an elastic band, Miss Cora was undergoing a severe test. The file folder in her hands burnt not only her fingers, but her heart. The numerical code of the personnel file--based on a twenty six number assortment--stood for Angie Connors whom Cora held most dear.
"Miss Connors is here." The receptionist blared over the intercom interrupting her solitude. Of course, the inner office camera was already aware of the arrival. It was a picture of normality.
Sucking up the courage to draw herself upright, Miss Cora walked unnecessarily across the room to open the door for the young lady. "Miss Connors?"
Aghast at the infraction, those eyes watching on the camera widened, became more alert. Miss Cora had only to step on a button to open the door and her voice would have carried into the waiting room. Naturally, such a deviation would have to be reported. Making a note of it, the watchers sent a message down a chute just as Miss Cora and Miss Connors were seating themselves.
"Miss Connors." Miss Cora tried to avoid looking at those big brown eyes across from her. "I have had a complaint from your room mate, 12-5-1 19-13-9-20-8."
Angie looked puzzled. "I have not done anything wrong."
"No, the complaint is that you're not doing something that you should be doing." Still avoiding her eyes, Miss Cora appraised the slender female. Tan, with dark hair and big, brown eyes, Angie looked just like her father.
Angie muttered, "Oh, THAT again."
Miss Cora nodded. "You've been cautioned before Angie." They dropped the formality now. Unknown to either of them, alerted by the note that had just arrived, He was listening. "It is a social problem. You seem to have trouble adjusting."
Frowning, Angie nodded. "It just doesn't appeal to me."
"Your room mates are not appealing?" Cora knew the child better than that. "You must talk to me so we can fix the problem."
Angie squirmed uncomfortably, "I don't like the sex part."
"We've never had this problem before." Miss Cora had suffered a minor maladjustment in the dorms during her youth but that was confidential information not to be shared.
"Maybe," Angie hesitated, after all this was the head mistress, then whispered, "maybe I'm not like anyone else you've had before."
Static passed between them. Miss Cora, flushed, jumped up, leaned over the table, letting the words hiss through her teeth. "You know we all are the same. We come from the same place; made identical. You've worked in the nursery!"
"I know the doctrine, the so-called facts."
Cora slid back into her seat, calmly, "You've seen it child." Edgy, fear caught in her throat, clamped its fingers tightly and squeezed. "You've seen the test tubes. You've seen them fertilize an egg with sperm before implanting it into the artificial wombs. You have seen birth and held the infants that have resulted."
Angie nodded. "It still doesn't add up."
"What doesn't add up?"
"Well," Angie explained nervously, "we take the egg from the female and the sperm from the male . . . "
Cora interrupted. "We only use SELECTED candidates."
Angie bit her lip. "I know but . . . but it’s not the easiest way of fertilization." Hanging her head embarrassed, Angie dared suggest. "What was wrong with the natural way?"
"The natural way of what?" Miss Cora felt the burn of heat rising about her, her face reddened, flush with embarrassment. This was getting them nowhere.
"You know, of fertilizing the egg."
Miss Cora was astonished by the barbarian suggestion of mating couples, allowing them to writhe like animals and exchange of body fluids. "MISS Connors, men and women have not cohabitated in centuries."
"I know that," Angie was persistent, "but didn't they used to?"
"Once upon a time, they may have but we have advanced now. We do not need cohabitation with the opposite sex. You are aware that the female is the superior species."
"Is that why do you put us in rooms of two?" Angie was referring to the practice of putting two individuals of the same sex in each apartment in separate dorms.
Miss Cora shrugged, "Child, we all need companionship."
Defiantly, Angie dared to raise her voice in anger, "I need companionship from my sisters but instead I’m always on the hot seat for refusing sexual intimacy."
The intercom buzzed, startling them both. Miss Cora pushed a button to receive. "Yes, this is Miss Cora speaking. How can I help you?"
A male voice waffled through the system, "Tune me in, Miss Cora." It was HIM. HE was the Head of State--Head of everything.
Cora's hand shook as she tuned in Central Control. Instantly, HIS face formed on the inter-office camera screen. Cora instructed Angie to move her chair from the front of her desk toward the right facing the screen.
He watched until both came into view. "Miss Connors, I presume." Impressive, although he confined to a wheelchair, His voice was deep, warm, unlike any voice she'd ever heard before. Few people had the privilege of speaking with HIM.
Angie nodded speechless.
"You are an intelligent young woman, but I question the use of your superior mind. I have been following your conversation with Miss Cora. Yes, centuries ago cohabitation was an acceptable way of life. Fighting, disease, and wars took the lives of many young men. The young women, however, flourished. They would have done even better spared the task of bearing and raising children. Besides, they were overpopulating the planet with their industrialization. The water, the air and the earth polluted and exhausted from unscrupulous treatment caused many defective offspring. Our infants are perfect . . . no birth defects, no hereditary insufficiencies."
Homosexuality is the new way; the perfect society. We have the ideal life . . . no unwanted children . . . controlled reproduction. We have perfected a means to recreate ourselves in a manner lacking animalistic displays. Our gay paradise is an advanced civilization. No one wishes to return to what was.
Miss Cora sat enchanted. Unimpressed Miss Connors continued.. "You mean that if I don't sleep with my room mates, I could be exterminated as an undesirable?"
"Precisely." He sighed. "However, we usually reserve such extreme action to those who are beyond repair physically or mentally."
"Am I beyond repair?" Shocked, Miss Cora shook her head overwhelmed by the pupil's gall.
"I do not think so." He addressed Miss Cora, "Until Miss Connors is oriented socially, see that she has her own private quarters. I request a weekly report on her progress."
Nodding, Miss Cora sadly watched Him disappear from the screen.
"Gee," Angie beamed, "my own private quarters!"
Mutely, Miss Cora got up and exited, followed by Angie.
When they exited the dorms, Angie gasped. The fresh air invigorated her nostrils, her head felt light, her lungs resplendent. She’d never been OUTSIDE before … didn’t know the word outside meant ‘THIS’----space, air, dark!
Miss Cora said ‘private quarters’ were separate quarters. A solitary, wooden antiquity, an ancient 20th century building, sat like a squat toad on a glass mansion that mushroomed everywhere. Beneath her feet were mirrors, reflecting light, and Angie, having lacked the knowledge and experience of truth, had no way of knowing that this was an expansion of a museum. All was still shrouded beneath a dome.
Excitedly, Angie set about checking the new place. Never had she seen anything so old, so quaint. Unbeknowst to her, other similar houses existed elsewhere. .
The quaint abode, furnished with the original things; a refrigerator, a microwave, lamps, and an ancient computer, was dark and dingy in comparison to what she’d known. One even had to squat on a seat to void instead of standing in the glass enclosed shower-waste room. She’d heard about such things in history class. Miss Cora showed her a multitude of oddities, explained their use and limitations. WOW!
Toilet paper and Kleenez dumbfounded Angie but she loved their softness. She cradled bits of each, given to her by Miss Cora, in her folded hand. Nothing seemed cold here but the warmth was, at first, stifling. Her breathing was more labored, catching fibers and scents foreign to her world.
She ran from room to room discovering things in each. They even had a whole room for the bed . . . such a waste of floor space. In the dorms, beds compressed into the floor but sprang forth with the press of a button at night.
Unable to contain her excitement, Angie hugged Miss Cora several times. There were items in the so-called refrigerator that Miss Cora said were edible. Angie had swallowed only food tablets all of her life. In the kitchen alone she could spend years investigating the delights of olden times!
“There are all sorts of edible fruits, berries, roots and even sweets from the hives of bees,” Miss Cora explained, “but eat nothing except the food you’ll find upon your doorstep. Some of these things are poisonous. I haven’t time to sort them out for you.”
“Likewise,” Cora’s legs nearly buckled, “read only that which has been approved of by HIM! HE provides us with all we need to know.”
Angie placed her number upon the documentation. “I promise!”
Miss Cora returned reluctantly to her office. Warm memories of that house flooded her memory banks. When HIS ship crashed. the HEAD OF STATE was gravely ill and HE had to be nursed back to life. Young Miss Cora volunteered for a nursing mission for the state that required lifelong secrecy since 'heirs' never got sick but simply faded into the sunset.
Time then had stood still. It had taken him time to mend, to get adjusted and they had fallen in love. She was seventeen, he was twenty-five. Accidents happen to people in love and the result was their daughter, Angie. Subject to extermination (since only males could be heirs) HE became HEAD and spared their child by mixing her in with the tube babies.
HE provided all the sperm for the tubies. The females had regular examinations that provided the eggs for the fertilization process. HE was the FATHER of them all, the ruler of humanity. He could not mingle with the women except to produce an heir. The heir had to be a male, no females birthed from wombs survived except Angie.
He, also, chose not to mingle with the men privately due to the rampant diseases they passed around so easily. Men were constantly exterminated to exonerate all physical deficiencies. The dorms isolated the women to keep them clean and innocent.
Like Miss Cora, Angie had made the nursery ward her chosen vocation. Every time you saw the babies, you had to wonder about their parents? Who were they? How did they grow in the womb? Was there pain in birthing one naturally? How much? Did it take long? Angie loved the mothering, the nurturing of the little ones. They were as close as she could get to bearing one herself.
Even though she now lived in the house, Angie continued to report regularly for work. The nursery was her life. Still, there were books in the house that she found interesting. Books were unheard of in the dorms since every thing was on the computer, automatic. Your reading material was selected for you by the computer according to your personal profile.
She read profusely, constantly, enchanted with the old writers who believed in romance, mystery and fantasy. Words became her ally, cherished friends. It was a cherished privilege not to be taken lightly.
Early in the spring, Angie noticed several boys playing outside her window. It was, of course, unlawful to mingle. They were trespassing. In their youth, they could be excused. It was a joy to watch them chasing one another about. Why were the males allowed to roam freely?
Curious what adventures lay beyond her window, Angie decided to pretend to be a young man and venture out. Day after day she prepared herself only to postpone it out of fear. It was illegal to misrepresent your sex. Extermination was the penalty for all crimes.
Scared, she began to venture out a few steps at a time. Some men carelessly hung their apparel outside for some unknown reason. However, Angie sneaked an article of clothing now and then. She'd have to be properly dressed to go far.
The cloak of darkness that enveloped her, aided her disguise, was indifferent. The laws for men were apparently quite liberal. Men often came up to her, pinched her rump and invited her in for a frolic. Women were assigned mates via computer compatibility tests. It seemed quite unfair! Several times, Angie wanted to accept just to see what it was like. However men were not supposed to be ‘trustworthy.’ If one discovered her sex, Angie would be reported and exterminated.
One evening a smartly dressed young figure, dodging propositions with but a shrug of his hand, went about his business with a burly, growly escort, who lumbered along robotically, towering over the youth. Obviously, the young man was a state official.
She, too, caught his attention.
Noting her heading toward the female sector, he called out. "Hey you over there, halt!" It was a definite order. Was he a police officer? "You can't go any further in that direction without violating the law."
“Why can't I go further?" Angie didn't try to disguise her voice. Like all the men, he was out walking around freely. It just did not seem fair.
"It's the female sector, as I'm sure you know."
"Ah," Angie teased, "how do you know?"
Eyes drawn tightly, the gentleman looked her over quite thoroughly. "You do realize that you sound like a female?"
"And suppose that I am!" Angie pictured herself as a heroine from one of those old novels. She had to free her sisters.
"Women must stay in the dorms always."
"Why are women kept prisoners?"
"The diseases here can damage their eggs, caused mutations, doom all humanity." His voice rang true , his demeanor was one of concern.
"What diseases are we talking about?"
Her ignorance exposed her. Men living freely knew all the diseases, the risks they took, the consequences. They could rattle off the symptoms for nearly every harbinger know to exist. Their lives depended upon that knowledge which was reinforced daily by any and all means. She was definitely NOT a male!.
Abruptly, the man thrust his gloved hand out and grabbed her hand. Quickly, he felt the structure of her hand. He jerked his head to motion for the guard to step away. Hastily the guard jumped back.
Whispering, his face close to hers, the gentleman delved into his soul with emotions and his voice spat them out angrily. "YOU endanger OUR species!" He squeezed her hand hard. "How dare YOU! How did you escape the dorm?"
Nonchalantly, Angie tossed her head. "Who are you? What does it matter anyway?"
They glared at each other, hissing with their eyes. Neither willing to give in to the other.
Women are fools, he thought. Being the wiser, he spoke first. "I am Adam, Heir to the State." He released her hand. "You’re a stupid female worthy only of extermination."
Angie massaged her hand, studying this attractive person before her. Unlike the others, he seemed without female traits. He wore no make-up but dressed casually in men's wear including shiny black dress shoes. She had yet to see such a masculine man.
"I won't infect the others, Sir." She was playing for time. "HE has given me my own suite."
Adam arched a brow, surprised, unaware that this female was in a birthing house. He chose among those females with "an odd turn" to produce an heir. Obviously, there had been an error.
"Take me to your 'house', if you dare." Adam mocked her. "It is not a likely story."
Angie looked at the guard.
"He can go no further." Adam explained. "I can go wherever I chose in my kingdom." Turning toward his shadow, Adam instructed him. "You wait here for me, Claude."
Without further hesitation, Angie led Adam through the streets and alleys having memorized the necessary maneuvers to get home. Once there she was reluctant to allow him entry.
"I have to work tomorrow."
Laughing, Adam shook his head, "Call in sick." Thinking, he realized she hadn't told him her name yet. "What do you call yourself?"
"Angie." Numbers were something she detested. "Do you want my numerical code, too?"
"No," he honestly found her intriguing. Never before had one of the females nosed around outside the compound.
They stood there on the porch like white, load-bearing, columns. Different customs breached their worlds although they felt drawn together.
"Usually I am invited in, you know."
Angie had barely met the man. "Why would I invite you in?"
Smiling he retrieved a key ring from his pants pocket. Fumbling, he tried several keys before finding the right one. Her front door swung open. "I have the keys to all of the houses."
Strangely, in her quests, she’d seen the other houses, but the females inside never came out. Usually when Angie passed them and they glimpsed her, those inside hid as if ashamed that they were different.
"What do you do in the other houses?"
Embarrassed, Adam cleared his throat. "You really do not know anything, do you?" He was not a teacher but it was obvious that she was not a deviate he could chose from. "Why were you removed from the dorm?"
Shirking, Amy admitted her problem. "I found it difficult to make love to my room mate."
He laughed so loudly Angie was sure someone would hear them. She pressed her finger to his lips to be quiet. "Sh. . .h."
Confidently, Adam started inside but Angie dared stretching her arm across the doorway. "You are not welcome, Adam." She was stern. "This is MY house and I chose my company."
No one had ever talked that way to him. It stopped him cold! She had an attitude problem, was definitely a misfit, yet she was appealing. She had a cute figure, a beautiful face, the eyes of an eagle and was sassy!
Backing away, acknowledging defeat, Adam wordlessly turned to go. Angie called out after him. "Your key, please?"
At that he grinned, but continued. "There is no way that I am giving you any of my keys."
Angie watched his back until he was out of sight. Dark skinned with dark hair, he had brown eyes you could swim in and the physical characteristics of a mythological god. She found him exciting, totally overwhelming. In the days of romance, the women always waited to surrender. He was worth waiting for if he really wanted her. She knew that you did not appreciate anything that came too easily.
For two nights Angie sat by the door anticipating the key in the lock but he did not come. Crying, she did not understand his lack of response. Didn't he want her, too?
The third night, she ventured out again restless. At the corner where that had met, she saw his guard.
Adam pounced out from behind her. "Going somewhere?"
"What is it to you?" Peeved, Angie did not comprehend his motive. She could see his delight at her nervousness. Had he been here all three nights waiting for her?
"You know females are restricted to their quarters. Is it so difficult for you to understand?" He was enjoying toying with her.
She kicked him in the shin. "Let me pass!" There was much she had not yet seen. He was wasting their time.
Rapidly, the guard seized Angie by the neck, ready to break it, tasting the power, but Adam shook his head. "Let her go, Claude. She's living her story book fantasies." With reluctance, Claude let her go.
Angie was a problem but enough was enough. No one could intentionally, repeatedly, break the law without punishment. Moved from the dorm by his Father, she was under HIS protection. Adam had to speak to HIM about this young lady.
"I’ll leave Claude to stand watch, Angie." Adam was taking charge. "If you leave again, I will not be here to save you. You are not my responsibility."
Finished with her, tired of her little games, Adam walked away slowly weary of the hassle. Angie tried to speak but it came out as a whimper. When the words became audible, she was calling his name. "Adam. Adam, please don't go." He kept on walking, never even looked back.
She attempted to run after him but Claude grabbed her, held her back. Tears welled, fell freely from her eyes, but neither of the men cared. Unable to move forward, Angie returned home but this time it was cold, not as inviting. Something had changed, something she couldn't understand. Nothing mattered to her anymore, not the nursery, not the books, not the old house. All she could think about was Adam.
In the following weeks the reports were more negative--specifically stating the fear that she would never be socially adaptable. The time spent on her own had made her more difficult, more a rebel. Miss Cora intercepted the report from Angie's supervisor fighting a terrible temptation to alter it though her courage was lacking. The recommendation was extermination.
Angie got her notice to report to the chamber. Silently, with no regret, she read it having expected it for sometime. This way of life was not living for her. Extermination would be welcome. The chamber was accessable only from the dorms via an underground passageway which was clearly marked with arrows as everyone took their passage alone. Once you gave your notice to the guard on the inside, there was no turning back, no way out.
Shuffling along without haste, Angie was unaware someone was waiting in another corridor.
"Angie," the voice wavered in the wind. "Angie."
Hearing her name, Amy visually scanned the chambers looking for the source.
"I'm over here, Angie." The voice called quietly. "You have to turn to your right."
Amy turned toward the right and saw a hand reaching out for her. Curious, she slid slowly toward the sound.
The voice continued, anxious. "Hurry, Angie." Long, bent fingers coaxed her forward. "Come this way quickly. We have both been banished from Paradise!"
Angie peered into the black corridor, saw no one but felt fingers entwine around hers. Pulling her behind them, they made their way to an unattended door. Suddenly, they were free!
Her eyes burned into the back of the figure before her, yet unknown. He turned around, embraced her and excitedly kissed her full on the lips.
"Adam?" Angie had to be dreaming. Hadn't he walked out of her life forever? Yet, there he stood guilty of lawlessness. "Why are you helping me?"
"You have no idea?"
Angie shook her head.
Adam simply held her, leading her farther from the clutch of death. He was trembling, crying as they cuddled in their flight from tyranny.
"You ate of the fruit of knowledge." Adam attempted to explain.
“No, no I didn’t!” Angie protested.
"Your knowledge overwhelmed me, filled me with the need to know. After reading book after book I, too, was consumed with a passion for controlling my life." Angie nodded. "We must leave the garden of Eden," Adam knew. "Our nakedness revealed, we must make out own way. You will bear the fruit of our loins, in our own likeness."
The fruit of HIM, the MAN, fed them both as curiosity. HE was Father to all, trying to begin a new Earth to replace that which HE’D lost…that was HIS mission as an astronaut. Particles of old Earth swished around in the galaxies, reclined in gaping black holes, fell in other universes as time after time man destroyed himself with knowledge, exploded the planet with nuclear war. Wherever the astronauts forged forth the diseases that ravaged all that once thrived on the original planet again emerged. Wars poisoned the air, the water, and the minds of mankind. How many planets had held humankind, allowed them to recoupe only to have history repeat itself?
Cast out from the garden of light, the man and the woman went forth into the wilderness. Shamed with the sin of knowledge, their names stricken from the book of life. They could never return. Life began anew as they brought forth children after children. She felt the stirring of life, endured the pain, cherished the freedom.
It was, however, just the beginning. . .
The first instalment of The Tales of Bowen unfolds a mesmerizing anthology of narratives intricately woven together by a grand overarching storyline, set against the enchanting backdrop of the mystical realms of Dagonfell.
