Disconnected: Arden, #1

By Crystal Gates

The first book in the upcoming Arden Series, takes you into a compelling new futuristic realm, when people are technologically connected like never before by a formidibly powerful system. A story of innocence, secrets, power, and love, that begins with young Keralan's sudden transfer to a new and dizzying world of luxury, to the interrupted solitude of a simple monk, and finally a lost soul whose lies become exposed, along with his true identity. Their tightly interwoven quests for freedom, enlightenment, and justice will change not only their own lives, but the fate of all Eurafrasia.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Crystal Gates
• Release date: Sep 2, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201737245

Crystal Gates

Crystal lives in Ohio, where she enjoys writing, gaming, sewing, cooking, gardening, building, and spending time with family.

Book preview

PROLOGUE

Our story begins in the year 2247. The Earth is largely unpopulated. Toxins and radiation permeate the land and the air, as well as every body of water, stream, and river. And still, people survive. In fact, they do more than survive. They thrive.

Within walled cities, known as provinces, pristine controlled environments shelter humanity from the vast uninhabitable wild. Not only are they safe from exposure, but they are also technologically connected to each other and everything through an all-encompassing data System. Generally speaking, disease is rare. Crime is nearly nonexistent. Resources are abundant and transported swiftly. Warfare is a thing of the past. Civilization has reached an ideal we’ve striven toward for centuries.

However, the people of Eurafrasia, the inhabitants of what once was termed Europe, Africa, and Asia, are nearing a monumental awakening. And when the veil of deception is lifted from their eyes, there is no telling what may happen.

PART 1

SHEBAI PROVINCE

PROVINCE TRANSFER

Behind all suffering is the belief that what is happening, should not be happening.

-Master Fjeld

Keralan lay back, cradled perfectly by her Una 2. Her eyes were closed; soft tones sounded from within it, politely interrupting her peacefully quiet bedroom at well-spaced intervals. She'd had the sensing bed since she was five years old, and it knew her better than a human being could ever hope to. The bed kept record of all her sleep patterns based on biofeedback, sensed movement, and sound. Over the years it had learned and orchestrated a collection of musical tones, vibrations, positions, and lighting that would best sync with her natural internal rhythms to help her to slumber like the dead each night.

Keralan knew she would not be able to drift off to sleep no matter how comforted she was by her Una. The time was nearly hour 14. Her lesson would begin very shortly. She was not in the mood for learning, but she also didn't enjoy facing her uncle's disappointment when she failed at anything, especially promptness. He had always taught her that the measure of time differentiated humans from animals, and constantly criticized those who were late as if they were inferior beings. His rather negative perception of others had greatly encouraged a strong desire in her to prove that she was good enough, at least to him. It mattered to her what he thought, more than anyone else.

Her arm vibrated as it always did when a message or alert came through. She sighed forlornly and groaned as she pulled away from the warm fluffy embrace of her Una and sat up. She didn't bother looking down at her arm. She recognized the pattern of the vibration and knew she had two minutes to get to her uncle's office. She stood up, taking a long breath.

As she stepped through the automatic door, she heard the Una say goodbye to her and wish her a wonderful afternoon. She shook her head and continued.

Henry stared down at her from the pulpit he always lectured her at. Keralan thought the shiny dark wood of the ancient relic of the past matched him well, for Henry was like a thing of the old days. He wore his hair long, pulled back at the nape of his neck with a smart black leather cuff. He always wore the same gray tunic, black pants, and a patterned gray sash at his waist. No one else dressed that way. His chestnut skin, dark hair, and brown eyes, however, were quite common.

His moderately aged face waited for her response. He'd been asking her about Stobruken Province to the far west. It was one of the principal manufacturers of building materials for homes and small business operations, as well as claiming a high standard of living. Keralan smiled to herself proudly. She had studied the province data thoroughly. There was little he could ask that she would not have an answer for.

Their weakness is that they cannot supply their own bonding medium, as Mulon Provence provides it, Keralan explained.

Henry's eyes raised just a little at her. This was all she needed to know that he was surprised at her knowledge, and it warmed her within.

Good, he said flatly, never betraying any hint of praise with the tone of his voice. And why can't they make glue themselves? he asked.

Because... Keralan faltered. For a moment, she'd forgotten the reason. She was glad when her mind kicked in and filled in the gaps. Because, she continued, their local resources for glue are scarce and even if they sourced the ingredients, it is far cheaper for them to get the finished product from Mulon.

Henry nodded, pleased, and moved onto the next subject.

Keralan listened to him lecture for twenty minutes about the effect of supply and demand on the smaller provinces. She'd heard it all before. The subject particularly bored her. The precariousness of being one of the least powerful provinces was obvious, but that was not the case with theirs. Keralan could care less about things that did not concern her.

Are you even listening? Henry asked sternly.

Keralan had slumped her body to the right, resting her elbow on the desk in front of her, her head in her hand. Hearing his tone, she sat back up to attention.

Yes, of course Uncle.

Henry peered down at her with a frown.

Keralan, he began slowly, you are already approaching your mid-twenties. You will have to take over Synpol someday. It is vital that you learn as much as you can about working with other provinces. It could mean the difference between life and...

Death, Keralan inserted quickly. Yes, I know, Uncle. You've only told me this a thousand times. I already know all this.

He let out a long breath into the still room and nodded.

This is true, he conceded, but I won't be here forever to guide you. I simply want to be sure you are ready.

Ready for what, Uncle? The end of the world? Keralan retorted. She sometimes got very frustrated with his concern for her, but underneath it all she understood what he was doing. It was simply a matter of being tired of hearing the same thing over and over.

Henry sighed.

You don't know the future. Perhaps one day you will need to deal with hard things.

Keralan didn't want to think about such things, but she also didn't like the look on Henry's face. He was frustrated with her as well, which was something she could not tolerate.

I know, Uncle, she said softly. I know. I will listen. I'm sorry.

Henry pursed his lips and nodded. He moved on to new subjects that had nothing to do with her future responsibilities at Synpol Corporation.

Later that evening, Keralan was in the middle of chatting with her friends through a full-size wall screen in her bedroom. She could see them in their own rooms almost as if the wall wasn't there at all but opened to two other rooms with a divider down the middle. They lived in the province of Miliri, where Keralan lived as well, but more than half the time they did not speak in person. Much of Keralan's time was spent at Synpol or in her lessons with Henry.

Ria had just discovered a new source for fine custom shoes. She was showing them off proudly when Keralan's arm vibrated. She looked down at her forearm and the message that appeared across her tan skin. It was from her father.

Come to my office.

Ugh, she muttered. Sorry, I have to go.

But you didn't get to show us the new painting yet! Letta complained.

I know, Keralan said, I'll message you as soon as I can.

Keralan breathed out in a frustrated moan. She tapped at her arm, pulling up the control panel window, which shone with many different icons. She disabled the wall screen, instantly reverting it to its normal plain white and stood up. She sent a quick message back to her father as she made her way.

It was not unusual for her father to call her to his office. Rupert Bismar was the Head of the Synpol Corporation of Miliri Province. Keralan regularly helped him with data sorting and the management of Synpol's corporate operations. It wasn't one of the top corporations in Eurafrasia, but it was an important one. Her father and his team produced water filtration systems that the other provinces depended upon. In the highly polluted world they lived in, whether water was scarce or plentiful, all of it needed to be made pure. This kept them in good economic standing.

Keralan flitted into the office and found Henry standing beside Rupert. His tall thick muscular frame made her father look rather small and unassuming sitting at his grand mahogany table in his shiny brown leather armchair. Rupert was small for a man, and his dark hair was thinning at the crown of his head, barely screening his shiny scalp. Through tired aging eyes, he peered up at Keralan as she went to stand before them. She could sense that something was wrong. She waited patiently for one of then to speak.

You have been summoned, my darling, Rupert said in a small soft voice. Then, when Keralan didn't respond, he clarified, you are to be transferred.

Keralan didn't comprehend it at first. She laughed, thinking it was a joke. Her father could be a bit of a trickster at times. He liked to keep things light and fun when the mundane dragged them down. That was one of the things she appreciated most about him. However, she had never known Henry to participate in pranks. She looked back and forth between the two men. Her father did seem more serious than was usual. He cleared his throat and began to read out loud from the rectangle of glowing skin on his left forearm.

This summons is for Keralan Renata Bismar, for employment transfer to the Giova Corporation, within the Shebai Province, year 2247, day 337, to be delivered promptly at the 18th hour.

Keralan was stunned. Transferred? She scrunched up her face in disbelief. It didn't make sense. She was the daughter of a Corporate Head. People in her circle didn't get transferred. Not without consent.

But that's...ten days from now! she declared. They can't just make me go! I don't want to leave.

Keralan, her father said, this comes from Shebai. From Giova, no less.

Everyone knew the province of Shebai. It was a very prosperous place and one that most people would feel honored to be transferred to. And Giova was the top corporation in Shebai and all of Eurafrasia. Keralan was aware of the wealth and prestige, but she wasn't interested. She hadn't applied for employment or transfer. She was happy where she was.

Keralan stared across at her father. He cleared his throat again and said, I am sorry, but you must go. And there is nothing that I can do about it.

With growing apprehension, Keralan studied her father's dismal face.

What do you mean there is nothing you can do about it? Keralan countered, shifting her weight and crossing her arms over her chest. She was used to her father being in charge. He was a rank two Corporate Head. The only person more powerful than he, in Miliri, was Lana Biedorf, rank one, who ran the Malatt Corporation. They managed the province as partners rather than as rivals. However, Miliri was only a midgrade province, so within the full scope of rank even Lana didn't have the authority to deny Giova their request. Keralan knew this, but it didn't make it any easier to accept.

Can't you just tell Giova that I'm not available? I never asked to go to another corporation. Maybe it's some kind of mistake. Didn't you at least try to negotiate with them?

Her father had no response. He looked down at his lap, toying with his fingers nervously.

Keralan turned her attention to Henry.

Uncle, she implored, this isn't really happening, is it?

He peered at her sadly and then lowered his eyes as well. That was when it hit her. She knew that he, perhaps even more than her own father, would never allow anything bad to happen to her. But there he stood, passive and weak in the face of the kind of corporate bullying he himself had spoken so strongly against.

Keralan uncrossed her arms and made fists with her hands by her sides. She stood motionless, staring into space, as reality gradually sank in. She felt her whole body welling up with a new emotion; one that was so unusual for her that she didn't even recognize it right away. It rose from her belly, into her chest and her throat. Her upper body began to shake. The feeling grew until it took her over.

She looked around in desperation, spying a vase of rare flowers sitting on a decorative table to her side. As if she were possessed by some unseen force, she reached for the vase. Before she could stop herself, she had hurled it far across the room over her father's head. She watched as it soared and finally connected with the shiny gray stone wall. The vase shattered in a sickening crash. Water slapped the wall. The flowers tumbled out while sparkling glass scattered across the floor.

Still shaking, breathing in uneven bursts, she felt the anger burn and twist inside her. Then, she witnessed the expression of absolute shock on the faces of the two men. Immediately ashamed of how she had behaved, a more familiar emotion consumed her and her eyes brimmed with tears.

Saying nothing, she fled the office as fast as possible, ignoring the Synpol employees she passed in the halls. She went as quickly as she could to the familiar white door that connected Synpol to her household. The door opened automatically for her, as always, reading the chip in her arm. As soon as she was through, she let go and allowed the tears to come. She ran through the living room, up the exquisitely carved wooden stairway, down the hall, and through a door on her left.

Keralan threw herself onto her Una and wept like a child. The luxury of her surroundings, the rich décor, the prized possessions; they all could have been turned to dust and Keralan wouldn't have cared. Everything had turned to dust already in her mind. She wondered how something so awful could happen to her. She was being robbed of her life. Things would never be the same again. Her life was over.

It didn't occur to Keralan that change could be a good thing. Like most people, she clung to what was familiar. She had no choice but to go through the process of feeling her loss to its fullest depth. She was young and had no past experiences of change and life disruption to drawn upon. To her, it was a most terrible fate.

Out of anger and pure determined stubbornness, she refused to leave her room for three days. She barely ate and neglected her studies in protest. She blamed her father and Henry for not being able to help her, and so would not speak a word to them. But most of all, she cursed whoever it was at Giova that had sent the summons. She spent hours sending message after message to the employment office stating that she did not wish to be a part of their corporation. No one ever responded.

She was used to having access to a vast amount of information about the provinces and their corporations, so she decided to research Shebai. It became apparent quickly, however, that much of what she wanted to know was only available to residents. Even her most advanced searches on Giova gave her little idea of the kind of place she was going to. All she could gather was that Giova was very exclusive and private.

Finally, when Keralan had exhausted her short list of ideas to cancel her summons, and she was quite hungry, she came out of her room. Fortunately for her, none of the servants, employees, or even her father, said a single word to her about her transfer or her behavior. All that Henry said to her, before resuming her lessons, as if nothing had changed, was, there is something that my mother always told me when I couldn't see my way forward. She said, 'even the mightiest storm shall pass', and they always have.

THE HOUSEHOLD

Try to look upon familiar surroundings the way a traveler sees them for the first time.

-Master Fjeld

Keralan sat beside her uncle in a standard, white, two-person transportation pod as it raced along on its five-meter raised track. She looked through the full-length glass windows at the barren landscape zooming past. Some of it was nothing but a blur as they soared past various shades of sand that made up wavy dunes below the track. In the distance, the white, beige, and tan rippling hills confirmed the vastness of the desert. Above, the enduring pale violet blue sky served as a reminder of how exceedingly small the desert was under the expanse of Earth's atmosphere.

She glanced over at her uncle, deep in concentration. His face was scrunched up in a frown while he viewed his control screen. A rectangle of light shown through the brown skin of his left forearm, transmitted from the control chip embedded near the crease of his elbow. His fine gray tunic had the usual control panel access cut-out, always in the left sleeve.

Keralan could see that he was composing a message. He was tapping at a keyboard on his skin within the control panel screen. She smiled. He was the only one she knew that still entered text manually.

The sun had begun to reflect off the sand, creating a brightness that made Keralan squint in the dimly lit pod. The interior of the pod was very sparse. Matte finished metal and black plastic paneling lined the walls. A large TCS logo, which stood for Transport Control System, was stamped into the right door panel. Dim strip lighting illuminated the perimeter of the ceiling and floor. It was clean. All the electronics functioned. Miliri's intraprovince pods weren't nearly as well maintained.

It was Keralan's first time outside of Miliri. All her life she had dreamed of traveling the world. Unfortunately, the scenery was plain and uninteresting. Looking out the window had lost its thrill after about five short minutes. There was no sign of life anywhere. She was grateful for the experience of finally entering the Wild, but she would have liked to do so through a more interesting biome. She desperately wanted to see something new, such as snow-capped mountains, rivers, meadows, or forests. That day, however, she and Henry would cross barren land. There wasn't much to see between Miliri and Shebai.

Keralan looked past her uncle to the front of the pod, at the large screen mounted on the panel. A map showed their Realtime location as well as their starting and finishing points. Their speed was just under nine hundred kilometers per hour. It displayed their projected travel time, which was extraordinarily exact, as TCS always was. Two hours and fifty-six minutes. She thought about how the people accepting them at their destination could see them coming on their own screens and know exactly when they would slide into view. 18:03.

She was glad her uncle was busy with his control panel. She didn't know what they would say to each other. In fact, they had said very little to each other that day in preparation for their trip.

Smiling to herself, she remembered how he came to be called her uncle. They weren't biological relatives. When she was four, she had wanted to have more people to call family, perhaps because she'd lost her mother. The other children she played with had aunts and uncles, so one day she insisted that Henry become her uncle. He and her father had indulged her, as they so often did, and the title stuck.

Henry was not only her father's Corporate Advisor, but he was also his closest and most trusted friend. He had been a part of her father's life even before Keralan was born. Henry had been there when her mother died when she was only three years old. He was there when her father nearly lost his mind with grief. He had been with them through every challenge and every accomplishment. He was as much the reason for her father's success as any other factor in his life.

Her father liked to say that Henry was the captain of his ship. It was a funny thing to say, since ships hadn't been in use for more than a hundred years, but in essence it was true. They both relied on him heavily. He was extraordinarily smart and perhaps overly intense at times, but he possessed a solid core of strength that seemed unshakable. Keralan greatly admired this about him, as did Rupert. For all these reasons, her father made sure that Henry received more than his fair share of the corporate profits. In addition, he had entrusted him with Keralan's education.

Being tutored at home by Henry was one of the advantages that Keralan had over the other children in Miliri. In place of a basic corporate driven education, Henry introduced her to a wide array of unusual subjects, from religion, which had become obsolete, to the complexities of biological ecosystem development, as well as the extravagance of art and music. Most of the things Henry taught her about were not essential to the continuance of humanity, and thus, did not end up in the province school system curriculum.

Keralan had also been privileged to learn many practical and useful skills while working at Synpol. She could hardly believe that she wasn't going to spend the rest of her life there. All the time she had spent getting to know her father's corporation had ultimately been unnecessary. She wondered what Giova had planned for her. She hoped they knew what they were doing in choosing her.

She had picked out her best outfit, a crisp white blouse and a slim, ankle length skirt in a navy-blue knit fabric. On her feet she wore her most expensive dress sandals. It was the style of attire she imagined a high-ranking corporate employee might wear. She had pinned her long brown hair up at the back, thinking that it made her look more mature. She had chosen to wear makeup as well, which was unusual. Her lashes were thickly coated in black mascara. Her cheeks held the slightest hint of blush and her lips she left bare.

Keralan pressed her arm lightly, near the crease of her left elbow. Her control panel appeared. She tapped on the music icon. She selected a station to listen to on her micro speakers. The speakers looked like ordinary earrings. A tiny wire curved up from the gold-plated floral studs into her ear. She could barely feel them. They were comfortable even during sleep. Sound was directed precisely so that no one else could overhear. They had been a special present from her father for her eighteenth birthday.

It was the one luxury that she was taking with her. The instructions that her father had received the day before had been clear. She was forbidden to bring any luggage or tech gadgets. She hoped that her earrings would not be confiscated, but she wasn't planning on pointing them out.

Keralan sighed, remembering the party her closest friends had thrown for her the night before. It had been one of the best nights of her life. They had stayed up late playing games and sharing their dreams, because they all knew that it could be the last time they saw each other in-person.

At first, she had been upset to have to leave them behind. However, the reality was that most of her acquaintances would eventually end up in another province, either through marriage or employment. Things were going to change whether Keralan liked it or not. Once she recognized this truth, it was much easier for her to accept her fate.

She decided to send a few last messages. With predictive technology she was able to compose messages without having to type each word out like Henry did. Although she didn't understand how it worked, she enjoyed the convenience along with everyone else who used it. One simply had to choose from a grid of lettered and graphic icons whose options changed with each new phrase. Children learned to do it at a young age. It required manual correction in the beginning, but over the span of many years, accuracy rates reached nearly one hundred percent. For Keralan, it was second nature.

She started with a group message to her friends. Sentences that expressed what she wished to say built before her eyes. When she was satisfied, she tapped the bird icon to send. It was a sad subject, but the words came easily. It was much more difficult to write to her father. Over and over, she composed and deleted words. It took some time, but she finally came up with a short message she deemed acceptable.

I am sad to be leaving you father, but please don't worry about me. I will be fine, though I will miss you. I will see you again someday. I love you.

Keralan exhaled as she tapped to send it. She felt a weight lift from her shoulders. There was nothing more to say. She and her father had an odd relationship. He had always been too busy to spend quality time with her, but he'd buy her anything she wanted. His desire was always for her to find a respectable man to take care of her, despite her telling him she did