THE NEW DAY

Chapter 1

 I rub my eyes as I awaken from a deep sleep. Birds are singing. Where am I? I gaze upward through the green leafy canopy to the hazy white sky beyond. Sitting up, I look around. I’ve been sleeping on a soft carpet of moss. I smell flowers. Red and purple clusters similar to hibiscus are blooming around me. Am I in someone’s garden? I don’t think so; it looks more like a natural environment. To my right the land slopes toward a brook, narrow enough to jump across. Clear water gurgles over the rocks.

The place is so peaceful that it hardly seems necessary to hide from… whatever was chasing me. I can’t remember. It’s like trying to go back into a dream that you can’t quite recall. I don’t want to go back. I feel safe here.

I stand up and begin moving around. My nagging hip pain is gone. I feel no sore muscles. I haven’t felt this good in years—decades! But I can’t remember which way I came. Nothing looks familiar. Tall oak trees provide the overhead canopy. To my left the gentle hillside is covered with evergreens of varying size, all so perfectly shaped they could have been grown on a Christmas-tree farm. But they’re not planted in rows.

The thought of Christmas-trees triggers a strange memory—the memory of an angry robot. Who would have dreamt a robot could become so arrogant and aggressive? And how was that connected to Christmas? Maybe it was the commerce. I think the robot had something to do with controlling financial activity.

I hear something, the voice of a child—singing in Spanish. I pause by a giant oak. The voice is coming closer. I see movement. The child is weaving his way among the evergreens, still singing.

“Hello.” I raise my hand as a boy of about twelve years steps into a clearing ten paces away. He’s wearing white denim shorts and athletic shoes, no shirt. He has bronze skin, black hair and round dark eyes. He stops singing, raises his hand and smiles.

I see more movement among the evergreens. A large brown bear approaches the lad from behind. My heart races. “Son, don’t panic! But there’s a bear right behind you!”

The boy nods. “He’s been following me.”

I can hardly believe that a boy of his age wouldn’t comprehend the danger. “Son, he might look cute and playful, but he’s a wild beast! Stay calm. Turn around and face the animal. Then back slowly away from him.”

The boy grins, turns toward the bear and stretches out his hand. The bear sidles up to the child. “See, he’s friendly,” the boy says as he puts his arm around the bear’s neck and caresses him. He turns toward me. “You must be new here. We can show you around.”

I have a vague memory of running through a dark alley, skeletons of buildings, burned out cars... I refocus my attention on the bear. It must be a pet. Will it try to protect the child? “Ah… How long have you had the bear?”

The boy and the bear stride casually toward me. “We’ve known each other for about twenty,” he cocks his head, “maybe twenty-five years.”

“Oh.” Maybe he doesn’t know how to count. “You don’t look that old.”

“Time is kind of irrelevant here.” He extends his hand as he approaches. “My name is Miguel and that’s,” he jerks his head toward the bear, “Oliver.”

The bear gives a slight nod, as if acknowledging his name. Keeping one eye on the bear, I grasp Miguel’s hand and shake it. “James Highland. You can call me Jim.”

“Pleased to meet you, Jim.”

I study him for a second, trying to see him as a twenty-five-year-old. It’s not working. How can time be irrelevant? I smile and nod. “Nice meeting the two of you.”

Miguel exchanges glances with the bear. “Oliver would like me to tell you that there are a lot of delicious blueberries on the other side of the evergreens.”

How could he know what the bear is thinking? And why would the bear want to direct me to blueberries? I’m not falling for that one. I look the boy in the eye and ask, “Why don’t you let the bear speak for himself?”

“Oh, he’s nonverbal, of course.” Miguel answers seriously. “But he can communicate. You just have to tune in to his frequency.”

I ponder that for about two seconds and decide not to ask for an explanation. “Ah… How far is it to the blueberries?”

Miguel shrugs, locks eyes with the bear for a moment and then answers, “About three hundred meters.”

Did the bear give him the distance? I shake my head. “I’m not that hungry.”

“We’ve eaten our fill.” Miguel pats his stomach. “We were just headed over here for a drink.” He nods toward the stream.

“Is the water safe?” I ask.

“Oh sure.” The boy and the bear start moving toward a quiet pool that appears to be a spring. As I follow them I notice that the stream is not flowing out of the pool, but into it.

“That’s really strange,” I say, pointing. “Where does the water go?”

“It goes into the ground to nourish the plants.” Miguel replies.

My eye follows the water upstream. “Where does it come from?”

“The main river—it splits into smaller streams and irrigates the whole area.” He stoops, cups his hands and brings water to his mouth while the bear lowers his head and laps.

“You’re sure it’s safe?” I ask, licking my lips as I study the sparkling clear water. Tiny fish dart back and forth.

“Of course.” Miguel replies. “Apparently you come from a place where the water was polluted.”

“Well, I do remember that the water around my home was polluted from mining. But when I try to remember where I am and how I got here, my mind just goes blank.”

“That’s not unusual.” Miguel takes a deep breath. “I know somebody who can help you with that.”

Chapter 2

After a refreshing drink, I straighten up from kneeling by the pool and turn toward Miguel. “So, can you tell me where I am?”

“Well.” He frowns and glances around. Obviously, I’m right here with him. “Ah… You’re back on Planet Earth again, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

Back? Again? What’s this kid trying to tell me? “You imply that I’ve been somewhere else.”

Miguel rubs his chin and thinks for a few seconds. “I’m only guessing. I don’t really know what happened to you or where you’ve been in the meantime… I do understand that things were pretty rough around here for a while, but it’s not like that anymore.”

“Pretty rough? I have a few vague memories. They’re rough all right, but I can’t recall anything specific.” Is this really happening? I pinch myself.

Miguel gives me an understanding look. “I suspect that your head was detached from your body.”

“What?” Is he serious? I shake my head. “I don’t remember anything like that.”

He chuckles. “I don’t suppose that you would.”

The bear jerks his head up and down as if agreeing heartily—or laughing.

“But you don’t have to worry.” The boy puts his arm around my waist. “Nothing like that will happen here.” He gives me a reassuring squeeze and then releases me. “If you like, I can take you to someone who’ll help you rediscover your past.”

I consider the offer, hoping that he’ll take me to someone who is a little more in touch with reality than he is. “Okay, I guess I need that.” 

Miguel looks at the bear. “Oliver, show us the best way to a good landing site.”

The bear nods, turns and heads up a foot path along the stream. As we follow, Miguel asks what I remember from my past.

“I’m a used car dealer. I have a wife and family. I don’t know why I’m not with them. I don’t know how I got to this weird place. But I can clearly remember a world where water flowed out from springs in the ground. It gathered into larger streams and rivers which emptied into the ocean.”

“Yeah,” Miguel agrees. “I remember, things were quite different back then. The amount of vegetation we now have provides much more surface for evaporation than the ocean ever provided.”

“You mean there’s no ocean?”

“There’s still a good bit left, but it’s several thousand feet lower than it used to be. So a lot of area that used to be ocean is now covered with trees and other plants.”

“Where did all the water go?” I ask, still not believing.

 “Several things are happening,” he replies. “The polar icecaps and surrounding glaciers have been restored. Actually, there have been lots of violent earthquakes and volcanic eruptions that changed the topography of the whole planet. Now the water from the glaciers flows into large freshwater lakes instead of going right into the ocean. The rivers bring the water from the lakes out toward the equator.”

“Where it goes back into the ground,” I add.

He nods. “Another thing that’s happening is that with the abundance of plants, more water is being converted into hydrocarbon. We’re no longer burning fossil fuels, so the hydrogen remains locked up in the hydrocarbon and the oxygen is released to the atmosphere. You may have noticed that it’s easier to breathe. With the extra oxygen, the atmosphere is also expanding, so there is a lot more water absorbed in the air.”

 How can all that be true? I wonder as the bear leads us along the path, Christmas trees to the left and a white birch forest on the right. Oliver pauses as we arrive at a patch of blueberry bushes with the largest berries I’ve ever seen. I pick one and bite into it. Half a blueberry is a mouthful, sweeter and better tasting than anything I can remember. Oliver watches as I devour several more. Then he turns and continues on the trail. I pick two more to eat while walking.

As we walk I tell Miguel what I remember about the evil robot. He’s heard of it before. “As I understand,” Miguel replies, “a powerful world leader authorized the production of a bionic replica of his predecessor who had been a notorious head of state. I’m not sure who was really in control after that thing got going.”

I turn my attention to the melodious notes coming from a bird perched on a low branch ahead. Noticing that it’s a blue jay, I expect that at any moment it will fly to a higher branch and begin screaming, “Jay, jay!” But it seems to have no fear of us. It continues singing cheerfully as we pass right underneath.

“That bionic thing,” Miguel continues, “or robot, as you call it, required everyone to have a microchip implant.” He takes my right hand and examines my wrist. “I assume you refused.”

“I think I’ve read about such things, but I don’t recall what actually happened.” We stroll along in silence for a while as I try to comprehend everything. Hearing a sound, I look over my shoulder to discover that we are being followed by a whitetail doe with a fawn.

Miguel looks back and says, “I believe they’re heading to the same place we are.”

Rounding a bend, we arrive at a pasture of about thirty acres. A stream runs through it and there is a large pond along one side. Oliver walks out onto the grass and stops. The doe and her fawn pass him before she lowers her head and nibbles at the grass. A little farther out, a flock of sheep is grazing along with—a pair of lions? I take a second look. Yes, they are lions and they are eating grass!

As Oliver flops on his side, Miguel reaches in his pocket and pulls out something that looks like a smartphone. I watch curiously as he holds it up to the sunlight. “Just charging the battery,” he says. After about twenty seconds he does a few swipes and taps and then says, “I called a cab. It won’t be too long, but you may as well just lie down and relax.” He stretches out next to the huge bear paws and rests his head on Oliver’s shoulder. I sit down in the grass next to Oliver’s spine, well away from his paws. Hesitating, I reach out and stroke the bear’s fur. He raises his head and looks at me. I can’t tell what he’s thinking.

Miguel speaks. “Oliver says it’s been an honor meeting you, Jim. He wishes you well and hopes to meet again.”

Chapter 3

Relaxing in the grass with the boy and the bear, I hear a whirring sound like hundreds of hummingbirds. I look up and see a large hexagonal aircraft, like a drone with six propellers. I feel a rush of wind as it descends toward a vacant area next to us. On the underside of the aircraft there is a gondola about the size of an old-fashioned stage coach, minus the wheels. As it nears the ground, four struts extend and touch the surface, holding the gondola about six inches off the grass. The propellers stop and the door opens.

Miguel and I say good-bye to Oliver and climb into the aircraft.  There are two seats facing each other, which can accommodate a total of four passengers. As soon as we get seated, a voice from overhead asks, “Are all passengers aboard?”

Miguel answers, “Yes.”

“Door closing,” the voice announces. The door slowly swings into place and the latch clicks. “Welcome aboard, Miguel and Jim. We hope you enjoy your ride to Cedar Valley Terminal. Are all passengers prepared for liftoff?”

Miguel replies, “Yes.” The propellers start spinning and in a moment we’re airborne. Glancing around, I ask Miguel, “Where’s the pilot?”

He grins and shakes his head. “It’s computer controlled.”

The thought that I may have just been captured by the evil robot flashes through my mind, but I feel safe here with Miguel. I’m beginning to trust him.

As we gain altitude, the craft accelerates horizontally. I look down on a patchwork of forest, pasture and farmland. “Are we in the United States?” I ask.

“It’s not called that anymore. We don’t have separate nations. But I assume we’re close to wherever you consider home.”

“West Virginia,” I say quietly, gazing at the countryside. I notice farm equipment working the fields but I see no buildings. “Where are the barns and houses?” I ask.

“All underground,” Miguel replies. “The surface is reserved for vegetation, as much as possible. If you look carefully, you’ll see a few dome-shaped ventilators. You’ll see larger ones over the cities.”

“The cities are underground?” I ask, studying the landscape.

“Yep. Instead of building skyscrapers, we’re going the other direction, especially in deep valleys and areas that used to be the ocean. There they don’t have to dig down very far. They just lay a foundation and build toward a predetermined ground level. Then they cover it all with soil.”

“Aren’t the earthquakes a problem for all these underground structures?” I ask.

“All the seismic activity of years past has relieved the pressures on the fault lines,” Miguel replies. “The earth is very stable now. There shouldn’t be another earthquake for at least a thousand years.” 

“And people are still building?” I ask.

He nods. “We’ve developed as much space as we need for now, but there’s plenty more available. They keep building for the future. A lot of people are yet to be resurrected.”

I ponder that as I gaze out the window. Have I been resurrected? If so I must have died, but Miguel said he doesn’t know what happened to me. I gaze at the green fields and forests below, looking for a familiar landmark. I need to learn more about this strange new world I’m in. “I don’t see any roads or highways.”

“They’re mostly underground too. There are still some small country roads on the surface, but in some of the cities they have up to twenty or even more layers of streets beneath one another.”

“Wow! Don’t people suffocate from all the exhaust fumes?”

Miguel shakes his head. “No, everything’s electric.”

I look at the boy across from me. He seems to know an awful lot for a child. I wonder how old he really is, but I have so many other questions. “Where does all the electricity come from?”

“We’ve perfected nuclear fusion power plants.”

“Nuclear…” My mind goes back to a place once known as Chernobyl. I don’t think I’ve ever been there, I’ve only read about it.

Miguel looks at me. “It’s completely safe. Not like those primitive things you remember.”

He can read the mind of a bear. Is he now tuned in to my frequency? I need to learn more about him.  “Miguel, if you don’t mind my asking; how old are you?”

“I was eleven and a half when my life ended. But what you’re really wondering is how long have I been here.”

I nod.

“That’s been a little over thirty years now, but as I said before, ‘time is irrelevant.’”

“And you don’t age at all?”

“I choose not to. I’m waiting for my parents to come. I don’t want to deprive them of the experience of seeing their only son grow up.”

“Oh. So you can resume growing whenever you choose?”

“Yeah, that’s the plan.”

“Do you mind telling me what happened?”

“Well, it all kind of got started when a large religious movement gained political power. They weren’t bad people. They wanted to do what’s right, but they used their power trying to purge evil from society. There was a lot of conflict and violence, especially around a few hot-button issues like abortion and same-sex marriage.”

“I remember some of that myself,” I reply, glancing out the window and trying to picture the world I used to live in.

“But those weren’t the issues that affected me,” Miguel continues. “I got separated from my parents at a border crossing. It was pretty difficult. Groups of children like me got pushed from one place to another. Nobody knew what to do with us. Some of the religious people were trying to convert us. I could have had a better life if I had joined them. But even as young as I was, I knew what they were doing was wrong.”

“Sounds to me like you were a brave young man,” I say, gazing again at his handsome Latino features and trying to imagine what his life was like.

He purses his lips. “I was a problem child. They put me in with a bunch of older kids who were pretty violent. I didn’t survive.”

The hum of the propellers is broken by the overhead voice, “Arriving at Cedar Valley Terminal in two minutes.”

Chapter 4

As our drone touches down, I notice four similar aircraft connected to a row of charging stations. Cedar Valley Terminal appears to be nothing more than a flat lawn with the front of a building excavated into the hillside. “Have a nice day,” the overhead voice says as our door opens. We exit the aircraft. A small group of people come out of the building and approach a drone that is parked on the lawn close to where we’ve landed. They wave to us and we wave back.

I look at Miguel. “Who do we pay?”

He chuckles. “It’s free.”

“Really?”

“Of course. I suppose you’ve often ridden elevators and escalators without paying.” He shrugs. “What’s the difference?”

I mull that over as we head toward the glass front of the terminal. A large gold-lettered sign over the door identifies the location. We enter a spacious lobby with a fountain and lots of potted and hanging plants. Music is playing over the intercom and numerous people are strolling about, people of various races wearing clothes from different cultures and time periods. Everyone we pass offers some sort of greeting.

Miguel walks up to a large computer screen and begins typing. Within seconds he accesses information about the location of anything on any floor of the underground complex. There are stores, restaurants, manufacturing plants, and residential areas.

“Okay, first we’ll go down to level seven-D,” he says.

“Seven-D?” I look at him wondering what that means.

“The number identifies the street level. The letter identifies the floor. We’re going three floors below the seventh street level There’s a shopping mall there. I want to get a shirt for the rest of our trip.”

I consider what I am wearing, jeans and a polo shirt. “Am I dressed appropriately for where we’re going?”

“You’re fine—as long as you’re comfortable with what you’re wearing. No one is going to judge us by our clothes. I just like to have a shirt on when I’m around this many people.” He leads the way to an elevator with buttons numbered from 1 – 15. “This only stops at the street levels,” he says as he touches button seven.

It seems like a long ride, but then I realize we’re not just going down six floors, it’s six street levels. “How many floors are there?”

“Usually four from one street level to the next. So we just went down twenty-four floors,” he says as the door opens.  We step out and exchange greetings with several people waiting to enter. This lobby is also brightly lit and has lots of green plants and flowers. I follow Miguel through a doorway that leads to the street.

It feels almost like being outdoors. Above the street there is an arched sky-blue ceiling emitting light. Cars are rolling quietly by in both directions as pedestrians stroll along the sidewalks. Miguel is using his phone again. Within a few minutes a self-driving car stops in front of us and the door opens.

This cab ride is very similar to the one in the drone, except that I find the intersections a bit frightening. There are no traffic lights and nobody stops. Miguel assures me that the cars are all talking to each other and adjusting their speeds to avoid collisions.  We travel several blocks and then turn right and go several more blocks before the cab pulls over. After leaving the cab, we enter a building and find another elevator which, according to the sign, services a range of individual floors. We enter, along with several other people and ride down to floor 7-D.

We stroll through a mall with a variety of small shops; handmade jewelry, flowers, paintings… Miguel browses among several racks of clothes while an Asian lady smiles at us from her sewing machine near the back of the shop. “May I help you?” she asks as she approaches.

Miguel tells her what he’s looking for and she directs him to a rack of shirts in boy’s sizes. “If you see anything you like that isn’t the right size, I can make one to fit you.” After trying on several, Miguel selects a Hawaiian style shirt with bold red and yellow flowers on a green leafy background. “It looks very nice on you,” the lady says. “I hope you enjoy it.”

Miguel thanks her graciously and turns to leave. “Where do we pay?” I ask.

“We don’t.” Miguel grins. “Nobody pays for anything. Money doesn’t even exist. Every person does what they’re called to do—the things they are good at, the things they enjoy doing. As a result, we all have whatever we need.”

We discuss that more as we continue browsing. “Do you have a job?” I ask, glancing at the boy.

He nods. “Yeah. I’m doing one of my jobs right now—showing you around, introducing you to this new world.” He takes me to another store and helps me select a smartphone before we ride the elevators back up to level 5-A, the train station.

We exit the elevator onto a platform about 75 yards wide by 200 yards long. There is one very streamlined train car parked on the right side of the platform and two on the left. The right side is marked “Southbound” and the left is “Northbound.” Miguel points to the car on the southbound side. “We’ll be getting on that car.”  There are two doors, one near the front and one near the back of the car. A digital sign on the side of the car shows 9 minutes and 22 seconds until departure. “We don’t have to board right away if you want to check out any of the shops.” He nods toward a row of booths down the middle of the platform and then turns the opposite direction and gestures toward an area with tables and chairs. “Or there’s a food court over there, if you want to grab a snack, but we’ll be able to get a proper meal on the train.”

I glance again at the car, slightly larger than a bus, waiting by the platform. “It’s just one car. They can’t have much space for dining.”

“That’s not the train,” Miguel replies. “That’s just the shuttle that takes us to the train.” He does a few swipes and taps on his phone. “The dispatcher likes to know where we’re going and the number of persons in our group.”

“Where is the dispatcher?”

Miguel shrugs. “It’s a computer somewhere.” We stroll by the shops which offer a variety of books, handbags and travel accessories and then we find our seats on the shuttle. The vehicle has no windows, but wall paintings and mirrors give it a spacious ambiance. At the designated time, the doors close and the vehicle begins moving. The motion is almost undetectable.

“This is really a smooth ride,” I say to Miguel.

He nods. “Magnetic levitation.”

“Really? Do you know how fast we’re going?”

He shakes his head. “No idea. I assume we’re still accelerating. We’ll be moving well over three hundred miles-per-hour when we dock with the train.”

“What? You mean we connect to the train while moving?”

“Yeah.” He smiles. “The train never stops except for scheduled maintenance, but passengers can get on or off at any station along the way.”

Silently, I try to comprehend that I am probably 100 to 200 feet underground, traveling at high speed in a vehicle with no wheels. After a while I realize Miguel is watching something on his phone.

“You want to see a simulation of what’s happening?” He holds the phone where I can see it. “We’re coming alongside the train right now.” The screen shows a picture as if looking down on the train from above. There are two shuttles already attached to the right side of the last train car. Then there is an open space and in front of that, several more shuttles. Our vehicle slowly approaches the open space and then merges left, into the line of shuttles. I feel a very slight jolt as we lock onto the train. The doors on the left side of our shuttle open and passengers begin moving onto the train. It’s hard to believe we are traveling over 300mph.

Chapter 5

There is a wide aisle along the right side of each train car with doorways leading out to the shuttles. Digital signs at each doorway show the shuttles’ destinations and departure times. The two shuttles behind us are marked, “Eastbound Train” and “Westbound Train.” Miguel points. “We’ll be getting on that eastbound shuttle. But we still have about forty minutes.”

Along the left side of the car is a row of dining booths and a snack bar. The middle of the car is a waiting area with clusters of seats and bookracks. I glance at the menu posted above the snack bar. “There’s a nice restaurant upstairs,” Miguel informs me. We go up the stairs at the end of the car and find seats in the restaurant.

After a friendly greeting from the waitress, I order Stromboli. Miguel seems to be hiding a smirk, but makes no comment about what I’ve ordered. Our discussion digresses from one subject to another as we eat. We chat with a biracial couple at the next table. They’re heading for a few days of hiking in what used to be the Gulf of Mexico. They say it’s now a vast tropical forest. Miguel tells them we’re headed to Jerusalem. He can’t mean the Jerusalem in Israel; we haven’t prepared for such a long trip.

“How is your Stromboli?” Miguel asks when I’m almost finished.

“Awesome! Delicious,” I reply, looking at his grin. “Okay, what’s the joke?”

He chuckles. “You realize there is no real meat in there? It’s all plant based.”

“Unbelievable! I would never have guessed.”

“We no longer kill animals for food. But dairy products are still available. You can still get real ice cream.”

We each have a small dish of ice cream and then he takes me to the next car in front of us. The upstairs section of this car is set up as a theater and live music is being performed. We stand in the rear and listen for a few minutes. “We don’t really have time to sit down and enjoy it,” Miguel says. “We best go catch our shuttle.”

Passing the shuttle on which we arrived, I notice it is scheduled to depart for Redbud Mountain in 17 minutes. I don’t recall ever hearing that name before. We find seats on the shuttle for the eastbound train. Miguel helps me find the GPS on my phone. Right on schedule the doors close and we peel away from the train. Our vehicle gradually curves around to an easterly direction and comes alongside another train. Within a few moments we’re docked. We enter the new train, which is laid out very similarly to the other one. “You said we’re going to Jerusalem.” I look at Miguel. “You can’t mean the one in…”

“Yes,” Miguel nods. “World headquarters under Mount Zion, in what used to be Israel.”

“I didn’t even bring a carry-on bag.”

That’s okay; we’ll find whatever we need when we get there. How about we go to the gym and get a little exercise?” Miguel suggests.

“Sure, why not?” I reply. “I didn’t know they have a gym on the train.” He leads me forward to the car in front of the theater. The gym offers a variety of treadmills, stationary bikes, rowing machines and even workout clothes. After a brief workout, we take showers and head back to the theater where a movie is scheduled to begin.

There is lots of socializing as we wait for the lights to go down. Like other places, people represent a wide variety of cultures. They seem to be speaking a mixture of languages as if it were a single language. After the movie, there is no rush for the exit. People mingle as the auditorium slowly empties.

“Are you ready to get some sleep?” Miguel asks.

“Do they have bunks?”

“More like a mini-hotel,” he replies. “Come, I’ll show you.” He leads the way from car to car until we arrive at a service counter. Miguel tells the manager that we would like two single rooms close to each other.  

He hands us keys and directs us to the rooms. “If you need any toiletries, shaving supplies or anything else that you don’t find in your room, just give me a call.”

We find our way to our rooms, which are very compact and efficient. Miguel suggests I set my alarm for 7:00.

“Won’t we be in a different time zone?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “The whole world is one time zone. The sun rises and sets at different times, but that’s irrelevant since most human activity is underground.”

After saying goodnight, Miguel reminds me that tomorrow I’ll be meeting the man who will help restore my memory.

Chapter 6

I awaken, feeling refreshed. After washing up and shaving at the washbowl in my room, I join Miguel and we head to the restaurant for breakfast. I’m relieved to find that I can still get bacon and eggs. I know it’s not real bacon, but I can’t tell the difference.

Leaving the restaurant, we head to the shuttles. There are two marked for Jerusalem, departing in 7 minutes and 42 seconds. We board and find seats. Right on schedule the doors close and we split away from the train. I feel a slight braking sensation as the shuttle decelerates and comes to a stop by the platform. We ride the elevator up to level 1-A.

The spacious lobby is well lit; there are fountains, planters, and flower baskets hanging from the ceiling, which is at least 40ft high. There are skylights letting in natural light. Apparently we are at the surface again. The place is bustling with activity.

We walk down a wide corridor to a welcome center. I’m impressed with the exquisite woodwork in this area. There is a thick wooden counter bowing out from a wide service window which is framed by decorative turnings supporting heavy crown moldings. The moldings arch upward to a fancy wooden keystone. The walls are covered with raised panel wainscoting with fluted columns. The whole array is made up of contrasting wood colors and grain patterns. I’m familiar with a few species; burl walnut, ribbon mahogany and bird’s eye maple, but there’s a lot more. Next to the service area there is a door with carved rosewood panels framed in a light colored species that I do not recognize.

Miguel approaches the man in the welcome center. “Hi. I’m Miguel. I texted you about a newcomer.”

“Oh, yes.” The man glances at his computer screen. “James Highland.” He looks at me.

“That’s me.”

“We’ve been expecting you. How was your trip?” he asks while typing.

“Awesome!”

“You should be able to go in momentarily. The man you’re here to see is a very busy man. He’s responsible for virtually everything that happens around here. But somehow he always finds the time to meet with newcomers. You’re important to him.”

“I’ll try not to take more time than necessary.”

“Not to worry. He’ll give you all the time you need.”

The carved wooden door swings open and a cheerful voice calls out, “Jim, so good to see you again. How are you doing?”

I turn and see a man in a white uniform with a black necktie and black epaulets with gold stripes. I know immediately that he is an old friend, but I don’t recognize his face. His skin is brown, he has a neatly trimmed beard and his dark brown hair is pulled back in a ponytail. I’m too embarrassed to ask his name. I’ll figure it out sooner or later. “Ah… Hi there. I’m doing fine and obviously you are too.”

“Come on in and have a seat, Jim.” He steps back to allow me through the doorway.

I step into his office which looks like a woodworker’s showroom. He gestures toward two chairs upholstered in plush royal purple fabric. “Care for a glass of wine, Jim?” he asks as I get seated.

“Thanks. That would be nice,” I reply.

He goes to the bar, pulls a bottle out of the wine cooler and fills two goblets with a red wine. “I’m so glad you came, Jim. Has anyone explained what’s happened to you?” He sets one goblet on the end table beside my chair and then sits down across from me.

“Miguel has told me a lot of things, but he says he doesn’t know about my past.” I take a sip. “Wow! This is really good wine.”

“Thanks, I’m glad you like it.” He smiles. “I made it myself.”

I raise my glass. “Cheers.” We both take a swig.

“Well, let’s start with the fact that your body, soul and spirit had been separated. Your body went to the grave and your soul and spirit went to heaven. Now they are reunited with your new body, which has the exact same DNA as your old one, but it’s completely new. We just have to update your memory with everything that’s happened in the meantime and some of the things that were wiped out by your end of life experience.”

“Okay.” I reply, studying his face, still trying to come up with a name.

“I’ve gone over all your records. Everything looks fine.” He pauses for another sip.

I shift in my seat. “I’m afraid I wasn’t a very religious person—at least from what I remember.”

“No problem. We’re more concerned about sincerity than religiosity. You helped a lot of people. But you were a problem for that thing you called an evil robot. We call it ‘the image,’ or “image of the beast,’ to be more precise.

“You continued doing business without the mark of the beast. You’d give someone a car and have them bring you a bag of groceries every week for the next few years.”

I smile as I remember. “That saved a lot on taxes. The authorities didn’t like that.”

He nods. “You provided a car for a family of illegal refugees from an Islamic country. That enabled the father to earn a living as an Uber driver and it got you into a lot of trouble. A band of vigilantes chased you down and captured you. They decided to give you the same treatment the Islamic extremists used. They beheaded you.”

“I don’t remember any of that.”

He grins. “I don’t suppose that you would. But, my staff has put together a documentary of your whole life, from birth through death and heaven. They’ll get you set up in a comfortable place to watch it. That will take a couple hours, but it will restore your memory to normal.”

“Hmm. I’m sure there’s some things in there I’m not too proud of.”

He shakes his head. “I’ve gone through all the records. Nothing to be ashamed of.”

“Nothing about another woman?” I ask. “We used to get together and go to a motel.”

He looks me in the eye. “If anything like that ever happened, those records have been expunged.”

“Really? Why would they expunge my records?

He smiles and stretches out his hands, revealing nasty scars where the spikes had been driven through.

I fall to my knees. He stands, pulls me to my feet and wraps his arms around me.