Eve of Man (The Harvest Book 2) (2 page)

The offices of the United States Embassy occupied the
top floor of an unassuming ten story brick building situated on the Rhine
River. The US shared the building with Armenia, Spain, Bosnia, Italy,
Australia, Russia, and Argentina to name several. Within the building, close to
five hundred people worked at the various consulates and embassies, carrying on
the world’s affairs in twenty or more different languages. On a normal day the
building hummed with activity; people went about their daily duties, phones rang,
copy machines copied. A well-organized hive. On the day the white mass moved
the bees shifted into high gear, and the hum turned into a manic buzz.

In a corner office on the top floor, Agent Kyle Bosch paced
in front of a wall sized picture window, the swarming bees around him only a
small beep on his internal radar. From his vantage point, the view of Cologne
and the Rhine was five star. The view was the single notable attribute of the
office. A laptop and a mug of stale coffee kept company on an oversized walnut
desk. An office chair and an old leather couch kept company with the desk. The
walls were bare of personal effects, giving the impression the office was used
on a temporary basis, if at all.

For Kyle the office had served dual purposes over the
past year. During the long days after the cloud’s appearance, a place to pace,
to ponder, to wonder what the hell was going to happen next and when. At night,
after a few too many beverages, he’d pass out on the couch. The couch resulted
in a stiff back and neck, but was still his preferred place to catch the sun
rising, a seldom occurrence in Cologne. If not the office, he was waking up in some
woman’s bed. This usually resulted in him creeping away like a thief in the
night, and going through great pains to not awaken whatever nameless female
he’d met the night before. He made it a point to not know or remember their
names. Cologne was temporary. A reminder he repeated to himself anytime his
emotions tried to override his determination.

On rare occasions he’d accepted Ada’s invitation to
spend the night in their guest room. Those evenings spent with Ada and Will
were the closest he’d come to feeling sane, to feeling like the world had not
spun out of control and they were all hanging on by a thread. The normalness kept
him from becoming a permanent guest in the Gaynor household. Normal dulled his
senses and diminished his memories to whispers in his mind. He didn’t want
whispers, he wanted and needed those memories to stay loud, to continue in
reminding him of what was at stake if he became complacent. Although he’d
attempted to numb his mind and body with Kölsch on a regular basis, Kyle
remained in a constant state of alertness. A curse he sometimes thought.

Curse or blessing, he was going to need every
advantage at his disposal if he had any hope of surviving the unknown enemy
overseas. His plan had been conceived months prior, but Will had refused to even
entertain the possibility of sending him into the white mass. Kyle was
confident in his success and had already decided to act upon his plan before
Will called. Now, with Will’s help, preparing to leave would be easier on all
involved. Kyle knew sending in a drone was a stall tactic, but he’d allow his
friend that time, which was more for Ada, his surrogate mother, than Will. For Ada,
who reminded him of his mother, he would wait a few more days.

As fate would have it, Kyle met Major Gaynor shortly before
the Western part of the world disappeared. He’d been an active duty member of
the United States Army for exactly three weeks. A twenty-one year old cocky
know it all, who specialized in trouble, getting in it and causing it. Not
handsome in a GQ kind of way, but in a way that women were drawn to him like
moths to a flame and much of the reason why he found himself with a bleeding nose
or knuckles or both by the end of a night out. Could he be blamed for the fact another
guy’s girlfriend wandered over to talk to him or that another guy’s wife
slipped her private cell phone number into his pocket? He didn’t think so.

On the night they met, Major Gaynor happened to be witness
to a particular brouhaha involving Kyle, fists up, in the middle of five very
stout German soldiers. The offense had something to do with a fiancée of one of
the soldiers. At the last possible second the Major intervened, saving Kyle from
being pulverized. When Kyle later asked why he bothered, the major said it was
because he saw no fear in Kyle’s eyes and figured he wouldn’t give up until he
was either dead or in a coma. The major was close to right. Fear for his own well-being
wasn’t an emotion that governed Kyle’s life.

Kyle had accepted the major’s offer for a ride home,
although at the time he felt it was more of an order than a request. Gaynor
hadn’t lectured for too long, but made it clear he didn’t approve. Kyle wasn’t
so young and dumb to not know when to keep his mouth shut. The major could have
taken Kyle to his commanding officer, who happened to be a good friend of
Gaynor’s. But he hadn’t. He believed in the good in people and he’d sensed Kyle
was good people. In the end it worked out for the best, as it was later on that
night the world went dark. When the lights came on forty-eight hours later the
Western side of the globe was covered by a white mass of nothing. 

In the mêlée that followed, Kyle found himself guarding
the front entrance gates to the brick building where he now worked. Unable to
reach their home, Major and Ada Gaynor arrived at the embassy, tired, scared
and seeking shelter. Against orders Kyle opened the gates. A bond of friendship
formed between the trio and soon after Ada unofficially adopted him (officially
in her mind). The couple had no children and only one nephew, who visited every
few months. Ada, a retired school teacher, never lost her enthusiasm for taking
care of young people in need, and if anyone needed taking care of, Kyle fit the
bill.

After many tense weeks, military leaders on all sides
managed to work together to restore order. During a time when the expectation
was for people to behave as savages, an expectation instilled by the endless
books and movies on the world’s demise, they rose above their gnawing fears and
trusted in one another. This trust was the one and only thing to save humanity
from succumbing to primal survival instincts and reversing a millennium of
progress.     

In the aftermath Kyle was recruited into a newly
formed joint military intelligence agency. He was the youngest agent, but soon
earned the respect of the older more experienced agents. On the German side he
had newfound friends once the news spread on how he’d helped Major Gaynor and
his wife. The Gaynors were a fixture in the community, well-liked by military
and civilian alike. Many parents owed a debt of gratitude to Ada, for it was
her undying devotion to all children, especially those hard to reach kids that had
saved some from jail and others from worse.   

Now, a year later, despite having earned a reputation
of being slightly unhinged and mostly unconventional, Kyle was well respected. While
many men would be envious of his mission, most of the female population would mourn
over the news of his pending departure, and both men and women would agree the
mission a death sentence. None of this mattered to him. All he cared about was executing
his plan. A plan he’d thought through and over almost every day for the past
year.

Kyle walked to the window. Outside snow fell onto the
city. He stared out across the Rhine River at the Cologne Cathedral, its many lights
twinkling on the water’s surface. The past year had flown by and if he had to
spend those days anywhere, Germany’s oldest city seemed to be the right place
for him. The city was both beautiful and magical, with its famous Romanesque
churches, rebuilt after WWII, along with its numerous museums and galleries.
Once upon a time, before the cloud mass, it had been a popular destination for
cultural enthusiasts. If the citizens of Cologne had a renewed appreciation for
what the city held, he wasn’t sure, but he liked to believe this to be true.  

The snow reminded him Christmas was around the corner.
Once upon a magical time in Cologne; a time when the Christmas Markets
decorated the city’s center and people filled the streets. The colorful tents and
the strings of lights would be absent this year. The mayor and the deputy
mayors had made the decision to forgo festivities. No one grumbled over or
protested the decision. Christmas spirit, or any spirit, wasn’t in abundance
these days. Reaching into his pocket, Kyle pulled out a small picture. He
stared at the images for a long time before carefully placing the photo back in
his pocket. Torturing himself served no point, not without a keg of Kölsch in
hand. A knock on the half open door turned him away from the masked serenity
outside and his melancholy mood.

“Come on in Will.”

The door opened and Will, somewhat shame faced, walked
in.

“Did you think I wouldn’t show?” Kyle walked over and
shook Will’s hand.

“I was in the neighborhood.” Will shrugged. “Thought
I’d, you know stop by—“

“And try to talk me out of going?”

“Hell yeah. It’s madness. No one’s been able to get
in. No one.”

“I know the failure rate, but we’ve only tried flying
into the mass. I’m going a different route.”

“Right. Right. You’re going across the Bering Strait.
Brilliant plan. You know the men working the outpost on the Russian side
disappeared into that mass?”

“They went by boat,” Kyle reminded him. “I’m not.”

“What makes you so sure it will matter?”

“Nothing makes me sure. But I have to try.”

Will shook his head over Kyle’s stubbornness. “Is
there anything I can say to stop you?”

“Is there anything I can say to make you understand?
What if it was Ada?”

Will pursed his lips and scowled. “Not a fair
question.”

“Absolutely fair. And I know what you’d do. So stop
with the guilt trip and help me figure out the best way to tell her I’m
leaving.”

Will cracked a tiny smile and sniffed. “Hell. I’ve no
idea, but best to get it out in the open before someone decides to call her.”
Will pushed the door open wide.  

Kyle grabbed his jacket, taking one last look out the
window before leaving. Night had fallen.

The humans had christened the planet Bliss, but the
Adita knew it as Paru. Paru existed long before man, with many species having
come and gone before the Adita arrived ten thousand years ago. To the human eye
the scenery appeared breathtaking, a paradise. In Agra’s eyes he saw a cesspool
of vegetation, felt a climate of stifling heat made bearable only by the
ocean’s breeze. A breeze carrying a stench that never left him. In his opinion,
nothing blissful existed on Paru. He was anxious to leave the planet behind and
begin preparing for their future on Earth, to return to the frozen oasis that had
once been his home, the Adita’s home.

The memories of Earth never faded, despite the
unnumbered centuries having disappeared into the vacuum of time. The Adita had once
been great rulers of universes far and wide, revered as gods by many species,
including man. A sour taste rose in Agra’s mouth. Humans, he thought, disgusted
by the mere name. A race of beings unlike any they’d ever encountered. Weak in
most aspects, yet possessing a strength that defied logic. Governed by unpredictable
emotions, making them dangerous and a danger to themselves. For these precise
reasons they needed to be protected from self-destructing. For a species like
man to have the life’s blood the Adita required for survival was an egregious insult,
but one dictating the necessity of their captivity. Right or wrong. Moral or
not. Such things were not the Adita’s concern and certainly never crossed
Agra’s mind. 

Many details about their future were left to be
decided, but Agra’s patience wore thin. He knew the Elders could not be rushed,
and the Saciva’s opinions would not be voiced before the final plans
determined. The ninth moon fast approached. The inevitable date when the secret
meetings ended and private discussions amongst the Elders ceased. The time to
set their future in motion neared and, in Agra’s mind as in that of many Adita,
was long overdue.

A crease formed in Agra’s forehead, smoothing out as
he turned from the window to acknowledge Eve. Not a sound or whisper was made to
alert him of her approach. He’d not heard her until she’d been close, too
close, something no one else was capable of doing and had they tried wouldn’t have
lived to tell about it.

“You wished to see me,” Eve stated as she entered,
ignoring etiquette by not waiting for him to speak first.         

Hiding his displeasure behind a cool smile, Agra
looked upon her for a long moment, deciding upon which direction to proceed.
“You disobeyed me.”  

Eve feigned surprise. “I beg your pardon father, but
of what order did you give that I did not adhere to?”

“Do not be coy Eve,” he hissed. “I’m going to assume
you don’t deny having bit the human, like a feral beast? Having shared with him
the gift of eternal life?”

“I cannot deny that which I was unaware being wrong or
forbidden. And I only shared enough to make him stronger. He will not turn.”

Agra held up his hand. “Do not test my patience with
your twist on the word of the Adita. You knew it was my desire for the human to
remain here. There is much we don’t know about the child. Yet you not only
allowed the father to leave, but you did the unthinkable.”

“We don’t need the human. Caleb will be grown by the
ninth moon. He is strong--”

“Letting him go was not your decision to make,” he interrupted,
increasing anger building behind his calm demeanor. “Rules are important my
dear and because you are my relation does not exempt you from following that which
is written or from being punished for doing that which is forbidden. Rules
aside, you have not the knowledge or experience required to transform a human
in the proper manner. And, as I recall, the few attempts you made in the past,
were failures. Those were overlooked, for you knew not the rules.” Agra paused,
holding his temper in check. “You know them now.”  

Eve considered her father’s words, but remained silent.
The undertones of his mood revealed more than his words or demeanor. That
something bothered him, something greater than the loss of one human, even if
the human happened to be unique, was evident and unsettling.  

“This matter will be brought to the council,” Agra
announced. “Come.” He waved his hand, taking them both through time and space.

Within seconds they arrived in the judging chambers,
where not long ago Austin had discovered the truth about his son and wife. However,
a major renovation had taken place. Sophistication had replaced medieval. The crude
stone floors and walls were now smooth black granite. The center, where Zack
and Luke had been chained to the floor, was filled with metal benches that
gleamed despite the lackluster lighting. The circle’s floor, now a flawless gray
stone, similar to polished marble. On the metal benches sat the council. Thirty-four
pale beings, male and female, alike in appearance, having been stamped from a
parent organism few knew existed and fewer knew the origins. The Saciva, giving
as much the appearance of being ominous sculptures as they living breathing beings,
sat to the left and right of the great altar. An altar, once a crude stone fixture
now gleamed of polished white stone.

The council stood as Agra took his place behind the
altar, while Eve stood over to the side of the circle. Eve looked about. These were
members of her family. Where she’d once walked the Earth as a solitary being, she
now walked amongst her own. The odd thing about it was, although she’d been
alone on Earth, she’d never known the true meaning loneliness until coming
home. The very presence of the Adita felt like walls closing her in, overwhelming
her with a tremendous sense of isolation.  The chamber’s memories flooded her
mind. Flashes of trials held long ago came and went, many of which ended in
death sentences or worse. Many faces, many unknowns. These unknowns bothered
her. A great deal of the Adita’s history remained a mystery, and meanwhile the
clock was spinning out of control. To what end the clock tumbled towards,
continued to elude her.

“You may be seated,” Agra announced.

In a motion synchronized without flaw or sound, the
council took their seats. On the altar appeared an impressive book bound in thick
parchment, perhaps of an animal, perhaps of a human. The name Adita was seared
into the cover. The pages of the book were also made of parchment, and symbols
written in blood represented the written word. The origins of both were uncertain
to most all present. The book a written declaration of all things Adita, served
as an emblem of law during formal proceedings. All Adita knew the contents of
the book.

As Agra turned each page the symbols appeared and
disappeared. He stopped turning a third of the way into the book and looked up.
“The laws of the Adita are precise and without corruption.” Agra’s voice filled
the room. It wasn’t a booming sound, like a preacher at the pulpit throwing
down fire and brimstone, yet it held an authority demanding attention and
respect. The congregation nodded in unison, one nod up and down. Eve watched and
listened to the words spoken, to the thoughts unspoken.

“The laws of creation are precise and without
corruption,” Agra continued. “It is written and it will be upheld, no member of
the Adita shall give that which is sacred, the gift of eternal life, to another
species, human or other.”

Again his statements received a single nod from all
except Eve. She knew the book front to back, and realized the direction Agra
was taking the council. Her demeanor suggested defiance, but her mind was void.
No thoughts churned, no opinions formed. That Agra was speaking did not concern
her, that he was listening mattered greatly.

“Eve, daughter of the house of Adita, how do you
plead?” Agra asked.

Eve stepped forward, approaching the altar as was
customary for the accused. “I broke no laws intentionally and therefore have no
plead to bring forth.”

A collective gasp, albeit soft, rose from the council.
Eve’s response was unheard of within the judging chamber. Arati, who had been documenting
the accounts of the meeting, stopped writing, his hand hung suspended above the
parchment.

Agra leaned forward. “Do not test the council with
your insolent attitude. State your plea and remedy.”

“No plea or remedy is necessary,” Eve replied in an
unchallenging, but confident tone. “I did not share eternal life with the
human. I merely improved his DNA.”

Agra slammed the book shut with a wave of his hand.
The sound reverberated off the walls seeming to shake the temple down to its foundation.
“The remedy shall be his death. He will be harvested. You will bring him to
this chamber, so that justice can be meted out, as appropriate for the act of
corrupting our laws.”

Eve stepped forward. “With all due respect father, I
disagree with the sentence. It is I who broke the laws, although unknowingly.
The human should not suffer for my mistakes and I won’t have harm come upon
him.”

The Saciva, who as was custom had kept a straight face
and eyes forward, dared turned their heads in Eve’s direction. Whispers arose, and
aghast murmurs were muttered amongst the council.

“Silence,” Agra’s voice bellowed across the room. “All
Adita are forbidden to turn another species, especially a human. Our species is
designed to survive above all others. Preservation of the Adita relies on our
genetics never being tainted, our blood never being shared. We have the purest
blood. Flawless DNA. We do not create our kind by changing a human. An inferior
being.”

“And what of my son? Was he not created with that very
inferior being you wish me to destroy?” Eve countered, undeterred by Agra’s rising
anger, or his indignation over her defiance. His words, their rules, they meant
little to her.

“The creation of the boy was an experiment, a
desperate measure taken in order to save our people. A last resort, one such
that has never been attempted with a female Adita.” He looked out over the
council and back to Eve “The results of the experiment, of your son, must be examined
before any decision is determined. However, if necessary the experiment will be
terminated without prejudice.”

“Terminated?” Eve stood a bit taller. A movement so
subtle that, if it had been captured on film, the viewer would still have been
hard pressed to notice even in slow motion. Had he been alive General Roth would
have attested to the impossibility.

“Terminated,” Agra repeated, a note of satisfaction in
his voice. He’d seen Eve’s reaction, detected the twitch in her muscles the
same as if she’d jumped up and down flailing her arms. “Now, please state your
remedy.” In this request it was clear he expected nothing less than complete
agreement and submission from Eve.

“I will collect the human,” Eve replied, nodding to
Agra, to the Saciva, and last to the members sitting in the circle.

A long heavy pause fell over the chamber. Eve felt her
father probing into her mind, digging for truths in her words, looking for
ammunition to use against her. After long last Agra picked up the book of laws,
a satisfied purse of the lips graced his mouth. “In time you will come to
understand the full implications of the measures we take to ensure our
survival.”

 Eve stared unblinking at her father. She allowed him
to continue prying, validating she spoke in earnest. Once this was found she
blocked him from going further, redirecting his push to safe thoughts. If he
knew she was doing so, he didn’t acknowledge, leading her to surmise he didn’t.
In her private opinion she thought Agra didn’t know a lot of things, that his
powers were diminishing each day, each hour. She had nothing to substantiate
this feeling or assumption, except her unfailing intuition.

“Your plea and remedy are noted in the journals of
court for all to witness,” Agra announced, satisfied Eve could be brought into
the fold, could be controlled and act in the way expected of an Adita. With his
statement hanging in the air, Agra vanished from the room.

Eve turned to leave. Beneath her calm demeanor, buried
where Agra could not see, a force was building that she did not yet fully understand.
A presence within her, unlike any she’d ever experienced. While on Earth the
voice had guided her every move. She’d never known for certain if the voice was
real or imagined until coming home. Knowing now the voice had been Agra’s, she
no longer listened like a blind fool and only allowed him access on those
occasions demanding entry in order to avoid his suspicions.  However, this new presence
was not a voice at all, but a thought, a force within, that grew stronger each
day. Caleb would not be terminated, she thought as she exited the judging
chambers. Behind her the walls of the chamber expanded outward before
contracting inward as if alive, as if they were breathing. The council stirred
and a nervous vibe ebbed through the room.

***

Eve traveled down the halls of the great temple,
preferring to walk, to see and smell all that surrounded her. The temple was a
peaceful sanctuary, the planet an oasis. She did not understand or share her
father’s disdain for Paru. Earth was dying, saved only by the Elder’s
intervention. The current frozen state would be necessary for centuries to
come, if they wanted to salvage the planet. To begin the unthawing process now
would risk overheating the core and destroying Earth forever. But Agra could
not be deterred. This blind pursuit was all too familiar, having witnessed
similar behavior in General Roth. The glaring difference, one of many, between
the two was Roth’s inferior mind could not cope with the unending failures experienced
during his quest to achieve his goal. Agra would have no such failures. The Adita
did not try again, they did not know the meaning of fail.