text: \-1- It was a cold November morning in Washington, D.C. The sun had yet to peek over the Trump Monument, the tallest point in the capitol since 2020. In fact, the sun hardly covered more than half the city at a time because it was usually blocked by what some might call a ‘pinnacle of engineering aptitude.’ The monument appeared nearly identical to that of the Washington Monument, but after the demolition of the latter, for what congress called “something much better”, the Trump Monument now towered at 2,500 feet from the ground, and covered a span of nearly 5 blocks. According to the history books, the monument was originally erected as a “tribute to the greatness of this country”, proclaimed by then president Donald Trump, although to the wise it may stand as a symbol of oppression; keeping those deemed lesser in the shadow of those deemed greater, only for the lesser to be inevitably crushed by (possibly quite literally) their tribute to greatness in the end. Each year, this fate became seemingly more certain to those who know it, but as money filled the pockets of the capitalists in their endeavors, accepting ignorance in exchange for giving up morality and aptitude, the care for the matter seemed less and less urgent. Those outside of the government were too concerned for their wallets to be concerned about the world outside of business. The year is now 2051, and the government that has worked so hard to plug the holes in their sinking ship of debt has reached the brink of global nuclear war. The air carried a cloud of doubt, that these men and women that were soon to arrive at the downtown hover-rail station might change the fate of all those around them. As the train neared the city, the only lights that could be seen through the thicket of bramble and fog were that of the capitol, since, as of early last year, all federal employees have begun working rotating shifts 24-hours a day to maximize profit, including weekends, typing furiously at computer screens to the point of callous, trying to prolong the inevitable for just a couple more days, a couple more days--And each day, they typed a little faster, a little faster, sending and receiving international transactions until you could barely see their fingers yet but a blur of flesh and skin and bone across each key in each fell swoop, until they would return home each night, armpits damp from anxiety, twiddling their fingers endlessly as they typed away into their dreams, never sleeping but never awake, but always working, for there was always more work to be done. The magnetic brakes kicked on automatically as the train hovered down the rails to the final station, quickly but gently slowing down the behemoth. An unsecured brown leather backpack fell from a faulty overhead compartment onto the head of a younger woman. “Ouch! Whose stinking bag is this?” “Sorry about that, looks like I didn’t pack in my luggage good enough. Are you okay?” John picked his bag up off the pristine floor of the luxury train cab and carefully secured each arm through the shoulder straps. his cheeks swelled and reddened from embarrassment. Elevator music played in the background. “Whatever, you’re lucky I don’t have that money yet or I would have sued your ass.” The woman looked at him, annoyed, before turning her back to him and departing from the awkward conversation. *People are too sensitive these days*, John thought. He wasn’t going to let one sour encounter ruin his day, however, for as she reaffirmed, there was a lot of money to be earned from this little week-long endeavor, whether they wanted to be there or not. These 100 men and women, all of which were from diverse backgrounds, cultures, educations, and wealth, were all there for the same job inquiry--they had all received hand-delivered letters to their front doors by men in black suits and sunglasses, bearing official U.S. badges representing their affiliation with the US Department of Future Security, a military agency that focuses on protecting the United States from any and all future terrorist and domestic threats. Each delivered envelope contained the same message, which reads as follows: IMPORTANT NOTICE Dear (insert name), You are hereby ordered to report for induction into a 7-day testing program at your nearest **UNITED STATES FUTURE DEFENSE** facility. Transportation will be provided to and from the facility. Be prepared for pickup by FRIDAY, NOVEMBER 11 @ 5:00 AM at your residence. $50,000 USD will be electronically transferred to your E-Wallet upon completion of the program as reimbursement for lost time. Willful failure to report at the place and hour of the day named in this Order subjects the violator to fine and imprisonment. Bring this Order with you when you report. Your country thanks you for your service. David Koehl, Overseer of U.S. Future Defense The doors of the train cab slid open with a long, hydraulic breath. The men and women aboard the train, all clenching their envelopes and anxious to finally stretch their legs, slowly and clumsily made their way out of the only couple doors available, and per instruction of a nearby official from the Future Defense Department, lined up: men on the left, women on the right, until they were left with two perfect rows of 50 men and 50 women. The official checked each person’s papers before a Greyhound arrived shortly for each line to provide the remaining transportation to the facility, although the personal space proved to be inconsistent with the luxury accommodations provided by the hover-train, and people were finally forced to small-talk with each other, something that has become outdated in modern society, and is generally avoided. “What do you think they’ll be testing us over?” whispered someone in the back. “I don’t know,” replied another, “but the sooner this is over and I get my money, the better.” There was a long silence before someone spoke again. “...Do you think it’s gonna hurt?” “They wouldn’t do that.” “So then why won’t they tell us what we’re--" “Just shut up and be glad you’re getting paid!” The Greyhound was silent the remainder of the way to the facility. The Future Defense Building was located on the very edge of the city, down a mile and a half of gravel back roads and through three electric barbed-wire fences with security checkpoints, each more thorough than the previous, until finally arriving at the underwhelming front driveway of the two-story Future Defense Building in what seemed like the middle of the swamp. It looked like a crumb on the crust of the earth compared to the mighty Trump Monument, and this was most people’s immediate observation. *How ugly, this building!* *Only two stories? Pfft! My vacation home is probably worth more than this whole facility...* The two groups of fifty were escorted by men in their full military uniforms from the Greyhound up to the main entrance of the Future Defense Building. John was near the back of the line, pondering this operation that was about to unfold in the coming days. The group of women were immediately separated from the men and led around the back of the building, while the men were led through the front doors. Coming from the outdoors where it was much darker outside, most men in the group grunted and groaned as they were temporarily blinded by the white fluorescent lamps that composed the majority of the ceiling in the facility. The air was warmer than outside, but smelled of sterility and latex gloves. An older looking doctor in all-white scrubs with only a single wisp of grey hair covering his shiny head popped out of a side door in the lobby to greet his subjects. “Good morning everybody. We are thankful for your safe arrival!” began the doctor, “I am Doctor Mayflower, head of the E.D.E.N, project, Short for the Extended Deep Equilibrium Network. I’m sure you have a lot of questions, so let me try and explain some things.” Doctor Mayflower reached into his lab coat pocket, withdrawing a tiny micro-chip, and held it for everybody to see. “At E.D.E.N, we’ve been perfecting the science of recording data. Not computer data, but rather, biological data. That is, the data that each and every one of you carry up here.” Mayflower tapped his index finger on the side of his head. “As many of you may know, our country has been on the brink of war for quite some time.” They did not know. The quiet hush of the crowd was replaced with panicked whispers and faces. “Oh, you aren’t aware? Well.” He cleared his throat. “See, nature is a cat-and-mouse game of survival of the fittest; Humans are bred to survive, and adapted over generations to catch each and every mouse, and prove time and time again his dominance over nature until there was nothing left to dominate. But as arrogant as humans are and always have been, we will time and time again neglect to realize that the greatest enemy to man is himself. The apex predator. The only difference this time is that we jingle the very keys to the atomic ending of life as we know it, and do so as if attempting to entertain a child.” “We aren’t at war, we paid our debts!” blurted out someone from the crowd, believing what the doctor said to be borderline hysterical. “Allow me to continue, please,” proclaimed Mayflower. “The government has exhausted its options for peace negotiations. If money is truly god, then god will not save us now. E.D.E.N. is our only escape.” The crowd became silent. Mayflower took a long pause, allowing his subjects to absorb everything he just said. After a moment, he began again. “Clear your mind and stay with me for a second. I would like to demonstrate a mental exercise.” He did not begin until the entire group was at his attention. “When I say the word ‘tree’, I want you to close your eyes and imagine the first image that comes to mind. Study that image in your head closely, but don’t overthink it.” John closed his eyes, and imagined a gnarled and ancient oak tree in a corn field. It was the very one that he used to swing from as a child. “Now,” said the Doctor, “I want you to imagine the first thing that comes to mind when I say the word ‘home.’” John did not picture his home where he currently lived, but envisioned the home where he grew up--a small farm house with a tin roof and vines creeping up the ancient oak siding. This image brought a smile to his face, if only long enough to have his fantasy interrupted by the doctor once more. “Okay. Lastly, I want you to think about the tree again.” The crowd stirred restlessly, not really seeing the point in this exercise. John followed the instructions and thought about the tree again, however, and pictured the same old oak tree in the field. “Now, I’ll bet money that the image of the tree you saw the first and second time are the same tree, yes? And if you think of ‘home’ once more, you will see the same image of home that you first imagined?” The men all looked at each other as if the doctor had read their minds without even needing to hook them to equipment. “This is because the human mind accesses memories using what we like to call ‘triggers.’ When I say a certain keyword, your first image that comes to mind of that word will always be the same. Because of this phenomenon, we have coined these as static memories, and have made possibly the most important discovery in human history, the ability to read and download thoughts. Since these memories don’t change, they have no risk of a deviation of outcome, and can be safely stored on these chips. Have you ever tried to store abstract thought on a computer chip? Well, it’s quite an impossibility. We have to have real, tangible data or the entire system is buggered.” “Why do you want to read our thoughts?” someone cried out. “What, do you have something to hide?” joked another. Mayflower ignored these comments. “For the past 5 years, we have been working on a super-computer of sorts. Imagine a perfect reality, composed off all of the puzzle pieces of society, government, weather, and economy. Every man, woman, and child are as real and tangible as in this room right now, but there are no longer any possible threats to our existence as a species. No more wars, no more violence, no more aging. Perfect harmony. Equilibrium.” The crowd became suddenly more interested in what the Doctor had to say. “When the bombs fall, there won’t be anything left if we don’t prepare for it. So, we’ve created what we like to call the Extended Deep Equilibrium Network. A virtual reality held on a central computer here at the facility that houses the very thoughts and memories of the human race in order to construct the most perfect and accurate simulation of our reality possible. That is, after we take out all of the harmful or bad memories beforehand. That’s why we need each of you--You all have been selected as the basis for simulated human life. We have set up a state-of-the-art augmented reality chamber where the participants will re-experience static memories the exact way they remember them. Touch, smell, sound, sight, and even taste will remain intact. This is the only safe and efficient way which we’ve learned to collect these memories onto our chips. All of you standing here before me today might very well be pioneering the very fate of the human race as we know it. If and when the bombs drop, we will be prepared to house up to 500,000 Americans in state-of-the-art stasis chambers miles under this very spot. Finally, After the earth’s crust is blown to bits, we will be safe and sound, living indefinitely in the paradise known as E.D.E.N.