“WOULD YOU MIND LOCATING that rose we left this morning?” Sord requested as the two approached Lily’s small cafe. He knew she was the reason he was alive, safe within Prosperity’s walls, but his emotional state was pulling him home to his mother.

“Take the rose when you leave. But first, you eat my food.”

Lily knew it, too. She understood this boy now had a lasting bond with her, and she didn’t recall the last time she had formed a similar bond with anyone. Before he could respond to her command invitation, Lily disappeared through the kitchen’s swinging metal door to prepare his early dinner.

“I don’t why she needs to feed me. I mean, not now,” he thought. “My shoulder is still very sore, among other body parts, and this place is likely to get busy as people pass by on their way home. I imagine she does quite a takeout business since this is one of only a few restaurants for passers-by. But I owe her, indeed, and it’s the right thing to do. I’ll eat fast, then go see Mom.”

He could hear the pots and pans clanging behind the door as Lily prepared his meal.

“On the other hand, she knew my father. Finding that is a rarity. Dad’s friends don’t come by like they did after the accident. Maybe she can explain a bit more about what happened. I feel so bad talking about it with Mom.”

The cafe’s lights dimmed.

“Is she closing this place?” he wondered aloud.

Minutes later, Lily banged through the door with a steaming plate of vegetables and noodles.

“Move your hands,” she requested. “Get burned.”

Sord slid his hands off the table, and she gently placed the plate down along with a pair of fancy, gold-embossed chopsticks.

“You know how to use?” she inquired.

“I think I’m okay. But Ms. Lam, you didn’t have to go to any trouble. I’m the one who owes you a big debt of gratitude, not vice versa.”

“Talk with me this afternoon. That is your debt payback.”

She smiled, the first time he’d seen her do that given her previous sternness. She then turned and started working at the counter, just like when he first saw her in the morning.

“I get it. She’s lonely. Maybe she has no other friends. Might be much older than she looks. I see so few of them, but I understand old people love to talk. She might have experienced much in her day.”

He fumbled with the chopsticks and began to eat, annoyed slightly by a loud whirring of the blender. She returned in minutes with a frothy, green drink.

“Thanks. I got so thirsty after all the excitement.”

“You like it?” she asked, noticing his meal was already half-finished. “No need to eat fast. You have time.”

He nodded and sipped from his cup. “Everything’s the best. What is it?”

“Too hard for you to repeat.” She plopped down across from him at the only booth in her small stand. “Have more when you come back.”

“This green drink is fantastic. But don’t you need to prepare for the rush hour foot traffic? I shouldn’t keep you from your business.”

She shook her head and pointed upward toward the cafe’s sign. “Nobody will come by. Customers know Lily comes and goes as she pleases.”

“Okay,” he acknowledged, feeling a little uncomfortable as she watched him eat.

“I’ll speak of your father and a person who worked with him.”

Sord grabbed the glass and downed a big gulp of the green drink, then wiped the foam from his lip. “Really? What person who worked with him?”

She pulled out the name tag that he and Daisy found, clipped to a small gold chain around her neck. “This person. My son. Tian.”

“He’s your son? But your last name is Lam, with no ‘b.’ That tag we found shows the word lamb, as in a sheep.”

“Pet name. Called him ‘My Lamb.’ Good name for a small boy with the last name Lam. He liked it, chose to keep it. Then he died.”

Sord was stunned. “Huh? Died?”

“Worked with your father. Three people in the lab that day. Experimental physics. Astrophysics. Black holes. Time dimensions. That was Tian. His life. Physics. A genius, like your father.”

“He disappeared with my dad?”

“No,” she retorted with an angry tone. “Not disappeared. All died. Everyone died. Nothing left. No marks. No DNA. Only a few items like clothes in the office, far from the lab. This tag you found, he wore it every day. ‘Metal clasp. Not supposed to wear in the lab,’ he told me, so Tian took it off. Hid it in your dad’s shoes many times. I know. He said one day your dad stepped in that boot and screamed. Swore a lot when this clip cut his heel.”

Sord’s head was spinning. “Your son and my dad? Same day? He was there? Did you ever meet my dad?”

“Many times he came with Tian for lunch. Should have known. Now I see your dad’s face. Chin. Ears. Met your mom a few times.”

“Wow! A place as populated and spread out as Durango, and I find someone who knew my dad. That’s amazing.”

“Your mom. Have not talked with her for a long, long time. But I called from the kitchen. She knows her son is okay. Worried for you. Says bad luck followed for a few months. Mom felt sorry about that bad Matt. Wants to apologize. I said not to look back. She gets this.”

He didn’t know what to say. “She was doing okay until recently. I mean, despite all this Stoic rhetoric embedded in everything we do, she had a hard time adjusting to all that happened to her. You simply don’t say ‘it is what it is’ then go about your life.”

Lily had a blank look in her eyes. “Sometimes, it never ‘is what it is.’ Sometimes, such loss tears a big hole in the strongest heart. Much time to mend. Maybe these memories pass. Don’t know. Not passed for me yet, maybe not for you or your mother. These are hard things. Life is hard.”

“Hmm. That’s what Matt kept saying today. I’m not sure I entirely get it, though. He seemed haunted by all that had happened to him, like he could not get his past life out of his system. I guess a few years of Prosperity indoctrination wasn’t enough to help him change. Too much life spent in too many horrific places.”

She shook her head and pulled an ink pen from her blouse. It had been there all the time, hidden.

“A real ink pen?” Sord asked.

“Memories haunt you,” she confessed, clicking the pen top unconsciously. “Haunt you if you sulk, feel sorry for yourself. Your losses. Self-absorb. Some people, even me, choose to let that happen. Some like the emotion from it. Makes them feel they are alive.”

Sord’s mind went back to his great memories from the morning. “I don’t get it, though. For me, today, sitting with Daisy, that girl. She’s my new girlfriend. I’ve never felt like this with anybody. Why would I choose to feel anything if it’s not a good, positive emotion?”

“Feelings,” she responded, pointing to her head. “Biochemical. You have an amygdala. Connects to everything. Easy to let chemical, electrical signals guide your conscious direction. Steals it away to bad places of little value. So, what do you know of your father?”

“Well, I lived with him for eleven years. And he was just my dad, so it’s hard for me to respond to that question as anything but his kid.”

“What do you know of his family history? His ancestors?”

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“Geez,” he replied, finishing up the meal. “I never really talked about that with my mother. I’m always concerned that amygdala part of her brain, as you say, might kick in and make her sad. She shoulders enough burden, especially with me being a teenager and getting into trouble like today. Besides, I’m her only son, at least for now. Why? Do you know some things about him?”

“Yes, I will tell you some. Next time you’re here. We can walk through the genetic database, and I’ll tell you stories he told me of your family history. But you should ask your mother first. I don’t want to talk of people and past things if she is hurt by them.”

Sord was surprised. He couldn’t imagine anything about his father that might hurt his mother in some way, other than the memories. His head shook slowly as he pondered his mother’s history. “I doubt anything you’d tell me about my dad could outdo her own history.”

Lily frowned, staring at him silently.

“Did I say something wrong?” he asked.

“Not wrong. All have histories. Some with bad, bad histories of evil people. Men, mostly. Not all men. A few I met are good.”

“Ron,” he blurted out, thinking of his mother’s burdens.

She looked puzzled. “Ron? Ron what?”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to mention his name. It just fell out. Ron the Oligarch. That Ron.”

“Why him? Many evil men to choose from in recent years. Hitler. Ron. Stalin. So many oligarchs. So many who benefit from them, who enable them. All nations had such beings.”

“I just . . .”

Silence.

“I just can’t imagine my mother would be surprised at anything negative about my dad’s family history. Hers is probably worse by far.”

Lily kept glaring, silently. Her eyebrows lifted, forcing him to continue.

“Hell,” he thought. “This woman just saved my life. She knew my dad. She’s not going to go spill the beans to everyone anyway. No value in that. And likely nobody in Prosperity cares. Too many sad stories, horrible stories. Sickness. Survival. Deprivation. Murder and violence. Domination. The horrors people justify to themselves that they are entitled to do when desperate. When no ethical system is used to buffer the worst instincts. Rationalization for evil behavior, multiplied times billions.”

“My mom’s mom. She died before I was born. Her name was Sara. She was part of Ron’s group, his media expert, the one charged to embellish and spread his multiple personas. The queen of misinformation, disinformation, and confusion. She propped him up with her amazing ability to spin narratives, I guess.”

Lily grabbed Sord’s hand which was resting on the table next to the chopsticks.

“No more,” she demanded. “I can hear no more. I know of that Sara, know her story from the histories. But your mother, a very nice lady. Raised a good son. Maybe Sara was not so nice at one time. Your mother can’t help that. Moved on. Made a life here. You know much of Chinese culture and history?”

He nodded uncertainly.

“Family was always important to us. Ancestors, near and far. Reverence. Respect for their memories.”

Sord continued to nod.

“Once I had many family with me, before the GDII. Sisters, brothers, mother, father, aunts, uncles, cousins. Grandparents, too. Lineage to 1600’s. Very important to me at one time.”

Lily stared at the domed ceiling, reminiscing.

Though he felt obliged to respond, his mind was slowly slipping back to Daisy and the day they spent together. He had an urge to call her to share what occurred after they parted.

“Doesn’t matter now,” she stated flatly. “Lives come and go. Countries the same. Philosophies the same. Political systems. Ethical systems. Society narratives. Species the same. Look at all living things that once existed here. Much is now gone due to humans. Many years it will take for Earth to mend. Humans, we do not think well. You agree?”

He wasn’t sure where she was headed, but it felt like she wanted to speak more on the topic. “I guess so. Nobody can claim we’re a species of genius planners or that we naturally get along well. Not after this last century of suffering.”

“Last centuries, you mean. Since we put our fist around the first club. Humans are reactive. Men the worst. Women close second. Surprised we made it this far. Was by luck or chance, not by work, for certain. Not by planning, for certain. Survived despite our fumbling, bumbling to self-destruct. Hope a few of us left can change that, but doubt it.”

Sord had never come across somebody who was this blatantly negative about Prosperity’s prospects. Everyone he knew had been schooled, indoctrinated, in the same set of the nation-state’s ethical rules. Sure, the teachings always acknowledged that the path they established might lead to more failures, just like all previous human societal failures. But nobody he knew believed this was plausible. Their strategy was simply too pragmatic and obvious to fail.

And then there was Daisy. She was the epitome of being a citizen of Prosperity in the fullest sense. A zest for living. A thankfulness for conscious existence. Ebullience and positivity. Her life should not become a minor mention in some memory stick found by interstellar aliens visiting Earth eons in the future.

“I don’t know,” he replied, sensing the negativity. “Most everyone I come across is pretty consistently optimistic about our approach. At least we seem to have started in a better place than previous societies.”

“Yes, political systems always begin with high spirits, good intentions. Then men get involved too much. Start putting themselves above the philosophy. Don’t see that yet in Prosperity. Don’t see someone saying ‘Look at me. We have a great start, but some things are not going right. Some things are messed up, along with certain people. We need a leader. I’ll be that leader, but only for a short time until all things are better. I’ll ensure we go faster, get to the goal. But me alone. I am the only capable one to lead this. Anointed one. The brilliant. I’ll step down later and all will be happy.”

“But that’s not really possible here, right Ms. Lam? We have no people who can stay in one position for long enough to gain control over something. Because of our terrible history of well-intentioned people becoming despots, drunk with power, our society mandates that everyone rotates. No exceptions. A head of a company is forced to step down after their time. Someone takes their place. Same with government officials or any positions, regardless of perceived power by others. It’s all decentralized. That way, no power can ever be consolidated.”

Lily’s lips puckered. Sord knew she was holding back some anger.

“With time we shall see. Never have we seen where some man does not think he is superior, that he has the answer. He promises to make the stay in power short, then stays forever. Changes laws and rules in his favor. Much more dangerous this will happen now with living to infinity.”

Sord wondered how they got off on this track. He expected the conversation to be a pleasant and informative one, about his father and her son. How they worked together. What they were trying to do in science.

“Yeah, I get your point, Ms. Lam.”

“Call me Lily. I’ll call you Sord, son of Antonin.”

He laughed at that. “Do you know why my father was given that name, Antonin?”

“Yes, he told me. I questioned, in fact. Know much about United States history. Degreed as doctorate many years ago, but not in history. Biochem. Got this after economics degrees. Asked him if his parents named him after Justice Antonin. He told the story.”

He was surprised she knew so much. Maybe his father shared things with other people that he assumed were shared only within his small family.

“Yeah, I guess it was a joke of sorts.”

“No joke. Not a funny man, the first Antonin. Sad. Made companies have the same power as humans. Spilled over to other things like hydrochloric acid on metal tray. Companies. Hybrids. AI systems. Who can vote among them? Subjugated humans. Good example, though. Too many people in the past, like Antonin, given too much power. Humans are not capable of wielding power. Too insecure. Need possessions, riches, power, fame. Plugs necrotic holes in their minds. Think this way. Martial arts. I love my double swords. Have many different exercises with them.”

She stopped, and he was confused. “Great. Would love to see you do that. I’m not sure how martial arts and swords link to wielding power, though.”

“Umm,” she grumbled. “Direct link. When Lily does double swords, they are right-sized. Weight, balance for my arms, hands, legs, body. What if the swords grow ten times?”

“You mean if they grew in size?”

“Yes. Then Lily dies by swords. Can’t wield them. Too heavy. Too hard to swing, parry, jab, slice. Accidents occur. Lily took on more size than she could handle. She was not ready. No human, even no hybrid, could be ready for that. Some jobs, positions of power, are ten times-sized. No human can handle. Antonin was a good example. Presumptive. It’s nature’s way. Those who think they can handle the power get power-hungry. Superior thoughts. Rationalize why they are better, and all must become similar but subservient to them.”

“That’s why we have these rules in place. Regular cycling of all jobs, especially governmental positions. Localized, decentralized control. We had to do that anyway, agree? We had to localize power and control because centralization and concentration created such indiscretions and imbalances.”

“Yes, Prosperity is a good try. Wants to limit the power. Reduce mental corruption by its philosophies. But people are evil. Not all, but some. DNA, maybe, don’t ask me. Evil people search for weaknesses in such systems, then take advantage. You know this too from school, what you’re taught. These systems are not foolproof. Prosperity’s system is a start, but very young. Very naive.”

“How are we naive?”

“I spoke of people living here, under the domes. Not all are like this. Some want other things, more power, shows of wealth, as things used to be. They say ‘I do more important work. I do it better than you. I should enjoy more things in life. Too harsh here. Stoic teachings, they suck. Want my life to be good. Strong. Enjoyable. Want power and pleasures I get outside where no rules follow me. Want to augment my body, show how strong and smart I am than others.’”

Sord was astounded. He’d never known of such rumblings of dissatisfaction. “Boy, I don’t see or hear any of that. Maybe you get lots of different types of people at your cafe. I mean, this is my first instance of spending any time in Bayfield, but it would really surprise me if they think so differently versus a few kilometers away in Durango.”

“You take it wrong. This is a few, not everybody. Some don’t like being told what to do, how to think, how to live life. They want ego and pleasure things, not Stoic suffering.”

“But it’s not really suffering. More like discipline. Humans simply can’t have all we had before, and that means across the board. It’s not like these unhappy souls couldn’t go grab gems or gold by the cartload out there in oxygen poor, dangerous no-man’s land. Much for the taking, but who would they share it with? They’d come back to Prosperity and say ‘look at me.’ People would laugh at them or say they missed too many classes on self-actualization and ethical behavior.”

“You’re not listening. Some are born or come here and don’t fit in. Body and mind can’t stand stresses. Living under domes. Being nice to people. Politeness. Kindness. Too much discipline. Harshness. No indulgences. Angers some people. Want more pleasure, feel entitled to engorge their senses. Can’t manage amygdalas or hormones in blood. They go home after work and wish to live a hundred years ago."