Paris is excited, and it's normal. She has been reunited with her mother after many years. Perhaps the best years that a mother and daughter can share and that both have missed. They spent hours talking in private while I was lost in the catacombs, lonely, thinking about Julie's words and what she wanted to say. Thinking about the Goddess and all that had happened to me. Julie Bell, turned back into the Priestess, let us go at dawn. She forced Diego Marquez to escort us and help us back to the market.

—From now on, be very careful. Any gesture, any word too much...not only exposes you but the whole community. And the community must prevail, no matter what—. He told us as we said goodbye on the boardwalk.

She went on and on about her mother. Paris told me, in passing, everything they had told each other: about her childhood, how her adolescence had gone, how Mr. Stonecraft had coped and overcome it, what Julie had been doing all this time, feelings, forgiveness, illusions, swearing. All of that gushed out of Paris, excited to share with me what she had to somehow expel. But she forgot to mention the warning Julie had given her about me. Her countenance, beaming with happiness, seemed to have the strength of the sun itself as it began to rise over the horizon, so I didn't say anything. I wasn't going to spoil the moment.

—Aren't you happy? We've leaped forward in...all of this. And not only that...the Goddess...she's so real. ....

—Of course—I smiled at her—It's great.

—Your face doesn't seem to say the same...

—Don't worry, Paris, it's just...there's a lot to take in. And you a lot more.

No. I'm not happy at all, or at least not as happy as she is. I think about it carefully now, tired and lying in bed, in a state of near-sleep. The last few months have opened my eyes to a new reality with Paris, slowly digging into my past as I've read the Bible and reached out to the Goddess herself. But...after getting all that...I feel that they are incompatible. That I have to choose. Either Paris or the Goddess. I have to concentrate all my efforts on one of the two. And it's a difficult choice for me that I've never decided for myself. Paris, despite the security she has conveyed to me, her closeness, her eagerness, her concern, her equal treatment, and even the certain attraction I have for her...she is only my temporary mistress. I am her slave, and she and Edgar have put me in my place several times. I do not forget that.

I am also plagued by the doubt sown by the smuggler: Paris may betray me. The socio-economic elite of the Provinces will not give up their privileges. I do not know which side Paris will choose in an extreme situation. The guilt has eternally fallen on the weakest, on the slaves. I don't honestly believe that Paris is using me for anything other than her research...but I know that when the time comes, the State of the Provinces will. After all, they own me. When my contract with Paris and his father is up, I'll be back in their clutches and then maybe back on old Greg Gordon's plantation. Although he promised me freedom when I returned, he has plans for me that look a lot like slavery.

I don't want to listen to Clarise either, the slave bought by Edgar Scofield's brother. Did she run away? I'm not going to run away, I'm not going to leave Paris stranded and alone in something that goes beyond the two of us, in the crazy adventure of history and time. And I'm not just going to do it for her. If there is one thing I want, beyond freedom, it is to piece together the life trajectory of Lunetta, my mother, I think to better understand me. For as long as I have had reason and use of conscience, I have had the image of my mother as an exemplary slave, in the Hall style, who from so much work, from misery, hunger and overcrowding in the cotton plantation village, had contracted tuberculosis and had died, fatally. Paris and her historian status completely shattered that fictitious image, as I came to understand that the Bible and the secrets it hid went far beyond what I had assumed of a poor slave. Now I know that she did not die of that terrible disease like tuberculosis and that she was not a docile slave, and that fills me with immense pride. She defied the established order, she was a follower of the Goddess and, according to Julie Bell, she was condemned to death and executed by the United Provinces. For being part of the religion? For participating in the slave revolt? I do not know if, at this moment, I want to build another image of her, idealized. A guerrilla Lunetta, a tireless fighter for freedom and equality. I scratch my left wrist and think of the Goddess. The black ink tattoo emerges and I touch it. I fall asleep.

When I wake up, it is getting dark. I was so exhausted that I slept twelve hours straight. I suppose the same thing must have happened to Paris. I go downstairs to get something to eat, a little upset, and no one seems to be home. I hear Paris coming down the stairs two at a time.

—Eric! Wait! Needless to say...well, yesterday is...a secret—I must not quite understand because she looks at me strangely.

—My mouth is closed. For...everyone's sake.

—For my mother's sake, I mean.

—Ah! Sure, sure. No problem at all. Your little slave will obey—. Neither she nor Julie wishes Mr Stonecraft to know of their meeting..

—Don't be silly. It's just... we agreed that... well, that he doesn't have to know.

—I get it, Paris—I reassure her.

The three of us dined, at the big oak table. Potatoes and sausages. They are delicious and taste like glory to me. Paris seems to have forgiven her father, I guess because of the inertia of the night before. Mr. Stonecraft finally laughs and informs us that he has almost everything ready for the next time jump.

—This time—he says—everything will work properly. I assure you.

—Thank you, Dad—. We seem like a happy family, if it weren't for the fact that I'm the house slave.

—Tomorrow I'm going back to college and you—Paris points at me—will come with me.

—Me?

—Yes. I need your help.

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I'm glad, on the one hand, to know that I'm going to know the city of New America, but, on the other hand, it terrifies me now that I have it so close and, above all, being a faithful follower of the Goddess. It's like stepping into the lion's den. I can't make any mistakes.

—Don't forget that they're targeting us—I tell Paris as we climb the stairs.

—If it's not one, it'll be another—she turns to me—. How do you think I've managed to keep Edgar out of this?

—But Paris... we've come a long way. You said so yourself—.We enter into my room. There's soccer on the screen, which I hadn't turned off before. —Your father will have the damn machine ready soon. We go back to the Collapse, get your books, find out what we need to, and you start writing your story. You grant me the promised freedom and we're both happy ever after.

—How easy it is for you, Eric. The world doesn't work that way.

—I just use logic—I roll my eyes. —It's the shortest and most direct path to what we want.

—Don't you realize that? —She raises his voice at me—. Everything has changed. Everything is changing. What do you think it means that a community of the Goddess is present in the very capital of the United Provinces? —She lowers the tone of the question, as if the walls had ears.

—What... are they good at hiding? —Paris puts her hand to her face. I'm not as smart as she is, I don't know what she means. —Go ahead, enlighten me.

—Well, it means that they have a solid and consolidated organization in all the Provinces. That they have managed to pull themselves together since the last slave rebellion where they were almost exterminated. That they have forged structures, communities, bonds of oaths and blood much stronger than they have ever had before. They have gone from being practically annihilated to being organized as never before.

—And that changes everything, according to you?

—We have been baptized, Eric! We have sworn allegiance to the Goddess and we are her followers! And, like us, thousands and thousands of slaves who had only distant memories of what religion and struggle were all about. How long before the spark of freedom and equality spreads again?

—Another slave rebellion? —I ask, hopeful.

—It wouldn't be strange, if they manage to capture most of the slaves in the Provinces. They are at that point, Eric. It's only a matter of time...

—Wait a minute... you don't want that to happen? You want to anticipate so that just rebellion will never, ever take place?

—Eric? Do you remember who I am? I believe in equality. Are you forgetting that my mother is a... damn Priestess? What I want to tell you is that...the Goddess has always been right under our noses and present in the collective imagination of the slaves. Think a little when you lived on the plantation, I'm sure something comes to mind that has to do with the Priestess or the Goddess. But now...religion is present in everyday life, because they have reorganized. By word of mouth, the exploits, miracles and scriptures of the first Priestess are circulating again. This will inevitably lead to another uprising. It is the end of the Goddess' project: peace, equality, freedom.

—The Provinces will crush us again, like worms. We don't stand a chance—I say, resigned.

—That's the advantage, Eric! The United Provinces have no idea about the religious reorganization of the communities. These structures are going completely unnoticed by the political authorities and the corporate Companies. Those in power are unaware of what is going on.

—Maybe so, Paris. That's a good analysis... What does all this have to do with what you're proposing? With the Collapse? That's your mission, isn't it?

—It's already decided, Eric. I'm not going to investigate the Collapse, the Goddess will be the star topic.

—You're crazy! To throw away all your work so far? Wouldn't publishing research on the Goddess communities be to kill the advantage you say we have? —I include myself.

—I'm going to do a History of the United Provinces and the Priestess and the Goddess. From the origins, treating with special attention and from the perspective of religion the slave rebellions, breaking with everything that has been written about them so far, focused on politics and confrontations. This will allow me to demonstrate my research skills and also to put in check the very foundations of slavery in the society of the Provinces. Isn't that what you want, Eric? Freedom for all slaves. That might be the spark that ignites the flame. I wasn't so sure about it, but my mother convinced me. It's what I can do for the Goddess, for peace, for equality and for freedom.

—And your dream of the Collapse? Where is it? And the old story of the tower of Paris?

I am dumbfounded. Although I admire Paris's turn toward the pursuit of the most righteous ideals, I am afraid for her. She seems so sure of herself that I know I cannot change her mind. She has put all the ideas together in her head in such a way that she already knows what to write and how to write it. She is unstoppable.

—I don't know. I think Collapse and Goddess marry somehow, but I'll have to look into it more. Maybe my mother can help me, the Goddess communities will have some database...books...I don't know.

—Keeping such a record would be almost like suicide for them, don't you think? If they were discovered...

—I'm sure they've been hiding it for hundreds of years, Eric. They know where they're safe and where they're not.

—Are you serious about giving up the Collapse? Time travel? —Maybe I'm the one who doesn't want to give it up, since I know it's my only chance to see my mother alive.

—I didn't say that. It's just that... it remains a possibility. As a hope. Every historian's innate curiosity about the past. We'll go back to the Collapse, Eric. I've already told you that it's clear to me that Goddess and Collapse are linked, and that's where we're going to dig.

—What about your theories of a pre-Collapse world?

—We'll have to see if they're true—She's very determined.

—I have said that...the madness of the Collapse, those strange United States of America, the supposed civilization before ours...It made sense...And an investigation of that kind, although it would show some weaknesses of the Provinces...they could tolerate it and give you even a professorship at the University. But...the history of the Goddess? To show and make all social classes see that religion has been and still is among the slaves? That it is the key piece to understand our whole society? The Collapse one had a pass...but this...not this, Paris. You'll throw your career away. You won't be eligible for the History post at the University. You'll be hunted down, found and tried for rebellion. At best, you'll have to hide forever, like the Goddess communities do in those catacombs—I don't know why I say it, why I want you to change your mind.

—Now you care about me? I told you I want the truth. I care about the truth. And, with the Goddess on my side, much more.

—Do you care enough to give up your privileges?

—If I have them...it's because others don't. Like you. Equality. Freedom.

—And Edgar Scofield? He'll never give up what he has for... the Goddess.

—I don't want to talk about it now.

Paris changes her countenance. I ask no more. I've never seen her so committed. And in part I understand her. She has rediscovered her life, meeting her mother, who is a Priestess, and her wise words. She has become a follower of a Goddess she had hitherto known only through a Bible and smuggled books. She has been transformed into a historian who lives the time it is her turn to analyze and write. She is the Goddess community's springboard to let the world know she is alive and to achieve a position at the University. But I fear she will get neither. If you go against the Provinces, against their history, against their society, you are doomed to lose. As it has happened to slaves, always. As it happened to my mother.