by Sean Platt
Table of Contents
The Tomorrow Gene
Copyright
The Tomorrow Gene
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Chapter 1 - Checking In
Chapter 2 - Ghosts
Chapter 3 - Lucky Scream
Chapter 4 - Welcome to Eden
Chapter 5 - Precipitous Rise
Chapter 6 - MyLife
Chapter 7 - Changing Destinies
Chapter 8 - Sorting Lies
Chapter 9 - The Tomorrow Gene
Chapter 10 - Next-Level NDA
Chapter 11 - To Bury Their Visit
Chapter 12 - The Silent Watcher
Chapter 13 - Working Early
Chapter 14 - The Monstrosities Behind Him
Chapter 15 - Nobody Home
Chapter 16 - Have Some Coffee
Chapter 17 - Tell You a Secret
Chapter 18 - Persecution Complex
Chapter 19 - The Scream
Chapter 20 - The Clothes You Wore Last Night
Chapter 21 - Already Dead
Chapter 22 - Go With Him
Chapter 23 - This is Not Another Nightmare
Chapter 24 - No Way
Chapter 25 - A Janitor's Access
Chapter 26 - Logged In and Lit Up
Chapter 27 - Who Are You?
Chapter 28 - An Idea Dawning
Chapter 29 - That Makes Two of Us
Chapter 30 - You May be Crazy
Chapter 31 - Not Quite Human
Chapter 32 - Just For Kicks
Chapter 33 - Circling the Edge
Chapter 34 - Punishable Under Eden Law
Chapter 35 - VIP Guests
Chapter 36 - Vanished is Vanished
Chapter 37 - JUST US
Chapter 38 - A Unique Experience For Everyone
Chapter 39 - The Enchanted Forest
Chapter 40 - Sign Here, Please
Chapter 41 - You'll Barely Feel a Thing
Chapter 42 - Make it Stop
Chapter 43 - Recovery
Chapter 44 - Acceptable Risk
Chapter 45 - Greeting the Sun Alone
Chapter 46 - It's Not a Problem
Chapter 47 - Fishing
Chapter 48 - In the Presence of Strangers
Chapter 49 - Inside the Light's Grace
Chapter 50 - A Junkie in Need of a Fix
Chapter 51 - Artificial Scars
Chapter 52 - Kinks and Complications
Chapter 53 - Fluorescent Day
Chapter 54 - The Only Way
Chapter 55 - A Hangar of Shadows
Chapter 56 - Like a Dolphin in the Deep
Chapter 57 - Stuffed With Merchandise
Chapter 58 - A Programmed Loss
Chapter 59 - Changing Everything
Chapter 60 - Fall Apart Later
Chapter 61 - Alarm
Chapter 62 - Not On Our Side
Chapter 63 - In Hiding
Chapter 64 - Proof
Chapter 65 - EEZ
Chapter 66 - The Lesser of Evils
Chapter 67 - A Righteous Hammer
Chapter 68 - Sky-high Flame
Chapter 69 - Family Ties
Chapter 70 - A Seed Well Planted
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Shit From Brains
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About the Authors
THE TOMORROW GENE
by Sean Platt &
Johnny B. Truant
Copyright © 2017 by Sean Platt & Johnny B. Truant. All rights reserved.
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, businesses, events, or locales is purely coincidental.
Reproduction in whole or part of this publication without express written consent is strictly prohibited. The authors greatly appreciate you taking the time to read our work. Please consider leaving a review wherever you bought the book, or telling your friends about it, to help us spread the word.
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The discovery of objects approaching from Jupiter orbit immediately sets humanity on edge. NASA doesn't even bother to deny the alien ships' existence. The popular Astral space app (broadcasting from the far side of the moon and accessible by anyone with internet) has already shown the populace what is coming. So the news has turned from evasion to triage, urging calm and offering the few facts they have: The objects are enormous, perfectly round spheres numbering in the dozens, maybe hundreds. They are on an approach vector for Earth. And they will arrive in six days.
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Sean Platt & Johnny B. Truant
CHAPTER 1
CHECKING IN
”Mr. Todd? I’ll just need your thumbprint, please.”
Ephraim turned. The pretty blonde stood beside his seat, tropical scenery blurring outside the window behind her. Ephraim had noticed the Eden representative leading the group earlier with a pretty blond man, the two of them like albino twins. Upbeat mannequins come to life.
She held a tablet. Looking at it, Ephraim’s heart hammered. He was suddenly sure she could see right through what had felt like a bulletproof disguise.
Ephraim tried to smile. The woman smiled back with too much gum and tooth; her affect almost plastic.
“My thumbprint?”
The woman shrugged, apologetic. “Identification. For the manifest.”
She wore the yellow polo shirt and tan shorts that passed for the Eden uniform. The blond man had been wearing the same, both of them smooth-skinned, overly chipper, and very Caucasian. Eden’s clientele supposedly came in all colors, but ever since Ephraim had boarded the tram he’d felt surrounded by white people. Only Altruance Brown, seated a few rows up, stood out with his dark skin, seven-foot frame, and the fact that he stood at least two Ephraims, shoulder to shoulder. At least another black man on the tram made him feel less alone.
The woman extended the tablet. He scanned its surface, then his gaze strayed behind her to a panorama of the ocean and neighboring islands. Ephraim could see the copper sculpture protruding from the top of the Reception Island Welcome Building. A recently-arrived group of visitors milled around it, dressed to the nines. And yes, there was a full range of skin colors. See? No racism on Eden. All’s well in Paradise.
Calm down. Your paperwork is in order. On the official record, you’re supposed to be here.
“I gave you my ID when I signed the nondisclosure agreement.”
She lifted the tablet an inch higher, undeterred. “If you would. Please.”
Ephraim forced himself to breathe. He still couldn’t believe that Fiona had talked him into using his own name. It seemed like suicide to him, but that was Fiona — she always had to be right.
He scanned the rep, counting details, searching his mind for calm. Her smile was broad, straight, and bright. Her blonde hair had a hint of red. She had subtle freckles across her nose that Ephraim hadn’t noticed before and her dark blue eyes matched the ocean he’d been watching on the flight in while trying not to vomit.
Ephraim pressed his thumb to the glass, hoping the tablet couldn’t read heart rate and that the woman wouldn’t feel his trembling hand. He was sure the screen would flash red and a siren would scream, but nothing happened.
The woman reclaimed the tablet and hugged it to her side. “Thank you. Would you like a copy of any of your signed documents?”
Maybe?
It was all hocus-pocus. But the other guests would surely want records, so Ephraim said, “Please.”
She nodded. “I’ll have them sent to your address on file
. I can even print them out if you’d like.”
Ephraim tapped his temple, indicating his ocular recorder. “It’s okay. I flipped through all the pages earlier and snapped MyLife records of everything. If I get bored at night, I can play them back, zoom in on sixty pages of legalese, and enjoy it all with a glass of Pinot.”
“Sounds nice.”
Ephraim didn’t want to have to say he’d been kidding. That was obvious, right? But the woman was a tad too pleasant, like a grown-up cheerleader.
“Anyway,” she said, “welcome to Eden. Officially this time.”
“Thanks.”
“How do you prefer to be addressed? As Mr. Todd? Or as …” She peeked again at the tablet. “Eff-ryum?”
“It’s pronounced EEE-frum.” Then, unnecessarily, “It’s biblical.”
“It’s beautiful.”
Ephraim smiled briefly, then looked out the window. He could barely take the woman’s ceaseless gaze. After a beat, she resumed.
“The tram will be arriving shortly, so if you’d like to snap any ocean views with your MyLife, the rise we’re mounting now is one of the best.” She gestured through the window, perfunctory. “I’m Elle, by the way. That over there—” She pointed to her twin, who was taking thumbprints on his own tablet. “—is Nolon. We’ll be your concierges for the duration of your stay. It is our job to serve you. So please don’t hesitate to ask if you have any questions.”
“Okay.”
Elle gave Ephraim a final smile and moved to the guest in the seat behind him.
At a loss and feeling conspicuous, Ephraim stood and moved down the length of the long, low-slung tram. It looked, inside and out, low and sleek, bullet-shaped, serpentine and chrome. There was almost no sense of movement, as if the vehicle was gliding on silent springs or a cushion of air and magnetism. The interior was as plush as Eden’s brochure promised the entire resort to be. Rows of seats were broken up by diagonal, semi-private vestibules lining both sides of the wide car. Each one featured a large, soft seat with a powered footrest, a private entertainment console (screen and headphones), cup holders, and individual climate controls.
Ephraim looked at the private compartments. The idea of vanishing into one was tempting.
No. Be social.
He turned from the angled lounges (all empty) to eye an area farther back where other guests were mingling. Supposedly — according to his intake forms — Ephraim was taking his Eden trip on his company’s dime, tasked with conquering his chronic stress and social anxiety. He would need to pretend that he was at least trying to do what his employers wanted, lest Elle or Nolon single Ephraim out and make him sing karaoke. Anything to make their client happy.
He moved into the throng. A tuxedoed waiter greeted him and inquired if he’d like a drink. And yes, that sounded downright necessary.
“Certainly,” said the waiter. “And what would you like, sir?”
“Surprise me,” Ephraim said. It sounded far less carefree out loud than it had in his head, but the waiter smiled, nodded, and walked away — presumably to make something fantastically decadent.
He moved to the window and stared across the water at the cluster of islands and inlets. As the tram neared the resort’s edge at Reception, he could look toward its center and see what almost passed for mainland. Ephraim tried to forget that only open ocean waited on the other side. Rather than being on terra firma while on Eden, he might as well be on a giant raft.
And he wondered: Are the manufactured islands anchored to the sea floor? They’d have to be, right? They can’t just be floating.
He didn’t want to think about it. He'd fabricated a cover story, but really did have paranoid anxiety — something his therapist and Fiona Roberson had both quizzed him about before sending him on this mission. Like outer space, open ocean made Ephraim agoraphobic. The sheer abundance of nothingness was crushing.
He focused on the land ahead to anchor himself. Details caught his eye, and slowly his fake interest became the real thing.
I’m really on Eden. It’s finally happening.
A place of legend. A place (said Eden’s commercials) where dreams come true.
What he wanted — as well as what Fiona wanted — was here.
Ahead, a copper flame seemed to rise from the reception building’s roof; the renowned Eden symbol, now in front of Ephraim’s face. He noticed the careful way the islands had been laid out, almost causing the MyLife memory of Eden as he’d seen it from the air to replay on his cornea. The archipelago’s construction, seen from above, had seemed more like an artist's rendering than anything as functional as buildings, spas, and beaches.
As Ephraim’s eye wandered, he saw the bright white clouds and entirely white buildings against the deep blue sky. But as he focused, more became obvious. There were people on the rooftops and the ground, moving slowly between unmarked buildings that the pamphlet hadn't mentioned. They seemed to be workers, but they were dressed entirely in white — right down to their covered faces.
Ephraim watched the strange staff, feeling a curious sensation of seeing something that hadn’t been visible until they’d suddenly become impossible to unsee. There were dozens of them, almost vanishing against the light background. They were too far for details; worker ants moving in the distance, covered from head to toe.
Footsteps approached from behind.
“So,” said a woman. “I guess you’ve seen the ghosts.”
CHAPTER 2
GHOSTS
“First time on Eden?”
Ephraim turned. The woman was pretty, with red-brown hair in a layered cut that, despite her presence here in the sea-salt air, looked professionally styled. At first, she struck him as maybe forty years old, but it only took a handful of seconds to see through her careful veneer of makeup and subtle cosmetic treatments. She’d fool a camera at ten yards or more, but up close Ephraim could see that she was closer to fifty than forty. Forty-seven, to be exact, if he remembered his tabloids correctly.
Ephraim nodded. The woman stuck out a hand, strewn with rings and bracelets.
“I’m Sophie.”
“I know.” Then he rolled his eyes at himself. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be. Haven’t the magazines told you? We love attention.”
Ephraim knew what she meant, but felt a need to atone. He didn’t usually get star-struck and wasn’t, technically speaking, stricken now. He was nervous and having trouble remembering all of his lies.
“Women?”
“Celebrities,” Sophie corrected.
“But also women?”
Sophie looked like she was deciding whether to be offended, but Ephraim already had her pegged. He’d always been good at reading people, and Sophie Norris was no exception. She wanted attention; it was probably the reason she’d gone into acting. But most people were probably too busy trying to sleep with Sophie or kissing her ass. They wouldn’t make jokes like the one he’d just risked. But judging by her slow smile, he’d struck a bullseye.
“I’m Ephraim.”
She extended her hand. They shook.
“Why are you here?” Sophie asked.
The four simple words prickled his skin. But it was only a question, nothing with subtext. He simply had to spin his cover story and she’d believe it. But Ephraim hated to lie. Jonathan had always said that was his brother’s failing — the reason he’d always got them busted as kids.
“I’m on executive leave,” Ephraim said.
“How nice.”
“Mandatory executive leave.”
Sophie rolled her eyes. They were green and gorgeous. “I wish someone would force me to book an Eden trip.”
Ephraim shrugged. Apparently, she wasn’t going to make him explain his Eden sentence — good news for the man who hated lying.
“So why are you here?”
“Don’t you know? Movie stars expire at fifty. It’s like Logan’s Run.”
Ephraim sensed a trap. It wasn’t smart to mention anyone’s age, righ
t down to their old movie references.
“So someone is forcing you,” Ephraim said.
“Nope. My decision.”
“I was referring to the filmgoing public. Those bastards.”
Sophie smiled. Her eyes flicked away. As she laughed, her hand brushed his arm.
“My company thinks I’m stressed out and my performance is slipping.”
“Hmm. And what makes them think you’re stressed?”
“My wife left me. She took our two kids and left the country. Things have been … intense.” But was that the right story? Was his fictional wife supposed to have left the country, or only the state? Embellishment wasn’t smart. A guy might forget what he’d said if he strayed from the script.
Sophie ran a sympathetic hand down his arm. “Ooh,” she cooed. “I’m sorry.”
Ephraim gave her a severe look. “Wait. Don’t tell me you convinced her to go. Because that’s not cool.”
Sophie looked uncertain. He was flubbing. Ephraim’s dry sense of humor confused people in the best of times, and this was hardly one of those.
“I’m kidding.”
“Oh.”
“Because you said you were sorry. Get it?”
“I was just—”
“Maybe this is where I should mention that they also want me to work on my social anxiety. And to think the company says people have a hard time relating to me.”
Sophie laughed a little. Ephraim allowed a lull, looking out the window at the white shapes that had recently grabbed his attention. He pointed.
“You called those workers ‘ghosts’?” he said.
“That’s what I call them, anyway. I’ve been here twice, but the funny thing is, the first time, I never even noticed them. Then it was like they popped out of nowhere, and suddenly I couldn’t stop seeing them. It’s like one of those Magic Eye puzzles. I was here with a friend the last time, and she didn’t see them until I made her stare long and hard at a group of them on a roof. They’re invisible to most guests, but once you notice them, they’re everywhere. My friend called them ‘ghosts.’ It stuck.”
