A young girl, age five, stood alone in a meadow of rolling grass and wildflowers. Her black hair flowed in the fragrant breeze, her honey brown eyes full of mischief. This was her kingdom, her ragged brown teddy bear was her chief minister, and the trees her honor guard. The Sun rose and set at her command, for what is a Queen without subjects? Her name was Olive and this was her world.

Still, even royalty isn’t above her Pa. He called her name and Olive came running. She flew over miniature mountains with all the speed her little legs could muster and was rewarded to see her home rise slowly from the ground. The house had a neutral colored stone façade and a sleek white back patio that greeted her. Her father rose into view, smiling; she smiled and pushed forward a little harder so she could reach him sooner.

Then she saw them, two uniformed Center personnel.

“You should be very proud Mr. Barlow. Your daughter is only one of a handful to pass our screenings flawlessly. I am quite certain that she will rank as a tier one cadet,” said the mop of curly brown hair and bushy eyebrows, his words of praise discordant with his demeanor.

The mop of hair looked young, but looks are particularly deceiving in this day and age. He wore a traditional officer uniform; a green jacket with brass buttons, a pin with the number 188, matching pants, slick black shoes, and a white collarless shirt with such posture that made his smart clothing look remarkably stupid.

Three brass stars displayed his tier one rank, and the Center insignia rested on his heart. The other, a slightly older looking sandy blonde was of the same rank and similarly dressed with a pin of 178, but managed an air more befitting her calling. She rolled her eyes at her companion’s prattle and directed her attention towards Olive.

Olive slowed to a stop, her eyes watered, and tears started flowing freely down her tender cheeks. She looked to Mommy seeking a shred of hope, but instead saw an expression of sorrow and eyes that expertly restrained tears. “No!!!” she shrieked as she turned and bolted for the woods. Tears blurred his vision and she desperately tried to wipe the ocean from her eyes. She had only gone several paces when a firmly planted stone stopped her left foot dead in its tracks and sent her hurtling forward. She braced for the inevitable crash, arms cradling her head, but none came. She slowly unwrapped her head, honey eyes still pouring, and stared below in complete horror… She was suspended midair while her tears fell gently to the earth.

“Don’t worry Mr. Barlow. Olive won’t be hurt or punished,” said the mop compassionately.

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The sandy blonde woman looked at Olive and cocked her head to one side. Thomas and Lena Barlow, Olive’s parents, were powerless to stop Olive’s abduction. It was not only a privilege and an honor, but something the Center had been doing for over a thousand years. With all the inertia, no amount of love or longing could slow or alter this inevitable moment.

Olive started to float toward her despite much initial kicking, struggling, and indignant protestation, naturally followed by quiet sobbing. The sandy blonde flicked her wrist and a wheel-less carriage that looked more like a floating cage materialized from thin air, and she alighted the craft.

“We must be on our way,” the sandy blonde woman announced. She paused for a moment and then added rather after the fact, “Please don’t say goodbye Mr. and Mrs. Barlow, it only makes the children more difficult,” and then proceeded to walk up three invisible steps into the carriage, towing Olive closely behind, who, in a fresh torrent of tears, waved a resigned goodbye to Ma and Pa.

The interior was made entirely of a smooth and soft transparent blue material and provided no hint of any frame or metal exterior. Consequently, it gave unobstructed views in all directions, including directly below, which was something that suited Olive very nicely as it gave her an ever changing, if monotonous, sight to look upon as she sat and sulked.

The trio had been traveling for an hour already and could have easily arrived by now, but it was common practice to extend the trip, as it was an intimate environment that made it easier to impress upon impressionable young minds.

“Olive, my name is Gooden,” said the mop head, “Would you like to see a trick or learn a little about the Center?”

Olive didn’t respond.

“Something to eat?” he added with a ridiculous smile.

Olive wished desperately that Gooden would just shut up.

Gooden attempted to rouse Olive several more times, but to no avail. Considerably miffed, Gooden turned to the sandy blonde and whined, “Why won’t she answer me?”

“Gooden, just shut up for goodness’ sake,” the sandy blonde snapped and then hastily added, “I can think of a dozen reasons without putting much thought into it, not the least of which is that you are incredibly annoying. Either try a new tactic or admit defeat!”

The sandy blonde was now roused and up for the challenge. She decided to try her luck on the girl.

“Hello Olive. My name is Adriana. Why won’t you answer my friend Gooden?” she asked.

“I don’t want to talk to you either. You’re a liar,” Olive replied.

“How?”

“Gooden isn’t your friend; you hate his guts.”

Adriana smiled broadly and proffered an apology, “I’m sorry. I did lie to you, and I do hate his guts, although it’s a little more complicated than that. From now on I’ll be more careful to be honest with you, especially considering that the truth makes itself known whether I will it or not.” Gooden glared at Adriana. The revelation that Adriana hated his guts was a rather unpleasant surprise. Adriana, catching the glare, made a short laugh and resumed the aborted interrogation, “So, why won’t you answer Gooden, especially considering your willingness to talk with me.”

Olive smiled and looked down at the ground rolling away beneath her, paused, then looked up and stated, “Gooden has nothing to offer… but I think you’re funny.”

Adriana muttered, “Five years old,” then turned to Gooden, smiled consolingly, and said, “She’s obviously done with us… on to the Center.”