Praise for Reset
“A hauntingly beautiful love story that explores the nexus of memory, identity, and love. Though technically science fiction it has an atmospheric fairy-tale feel that left me spellbound…Reset is a memorable, lyrical debut by Dahlan.”
—Ruth Mitchell,
award-winning author of Deleted
“Crisp, stylish prose and a story about love trying to withstand the rigors of time. This is a book subtle in its intensity, lush and beautiful, while carefully exploring what it means to be human and what we are to each other. Evocative and literary, I highly recommend it.”
—David R. Slayton,
author of White Trash Warlock
“Dahlan’s elegant writing style is as light as a whisper on the wind while still strong enough to probe the unanticipated darkness of a peaceful, yet problematic, postapocalyptic utopia. Reset haunts the reader through an ethereal, existential exploration of memory and meaning that lingers long after the last page.”
—D. Eric Maikranz,
author of The Reincarnationist Papers
“Reset captured me on so many levels…Once in a blue moon you read a book that leaves its mark on you—this is one of those. It was an absolute pleasure to read.”
—Naomi Gibson,
author of Every Line of You
“A vivid, evocative journey through a postapocalyptic world…
Told with an assured, graceful touch, this compelling debut is
a story for our current world, where our beliefs and
memories are the new battlegrounds.”
—Kimiko Guthrie,
author of Block Seventeen
“Reset is a thought-provoking journey into the human psyche
that will instantly have you pondering deep questions about the
nature of memory, dreams, and reality itself. This bittersweet
love story is as cerebral as it is emotional.”
—Bobby Azarian,
cognitive neuroscientist, Psychology Today blogger,
and author of the forthcoming book The Romance of Reality
“Love transcends the laws of a dystopian world in Dahlan’s immersive debut…Dahlan seamlessly marries sci-fi and romance while building a heady atmosphere through ethereal, dreamlike prose…The original concept and propulsive love story mark Dahlan as a writer to watch. Readers will be mesmerized.”
—Publishers Weekly
Copyright © 2021 by Sarina Dahlan
E-book published in 2021 by Blackstone Publishing
Cover design by K. Jones
All rights reserved. This book or any portion
thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner
whatsoever without the express written permission
of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations
in a book review.
The characters and events in this book are fictitious.
Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental
and not intended by the author.
Printed in the United States of America
Trade e-book ISBN 978-1-0940-8632-3
Library e-book ISBN 978-1-0940-8631-6
Fiction / Science Fiction / General
CIP data for this book is available from the Library of Congress
Blackstone Publishing
31 Mistletoe Rd.
Ashland, OR 97520
www.BlackstonePublishing.com
To my family
&
my editor, Peggy Hageman
Human intellect at birth resembles a tabula rasa, a pure potentiality that is actualized through education and comes to know.
—Avicenna, tenth-century polymath
The best way to rid society of the evils of human nature is to periodically wipe each person’s mind of their prejudices learned through life experiences. With the mind a blank slate, everyone has the freedom to author their own soul. Tabula Rasa. It is the future. It is what will save humanity.
—The Planner
Chapter One
In a mahogany-paneled room in a Victorian house on a hill, inevitability creeps in like a thief, but no one stirs. A man sits in a velvet chair the color of sapphire. A woman curls against his chest, her lashes wet like blades of grass covered in morning dew. They have been in the same position for hours. Neither intends to move.
He is afraid she will disappear. Like dandelion seeds, one gust of wind: gone.
His hand weaves through her hair, playing absentmindedly with the silky strands. He stares at the books on the table next to them, some with pages so brittle they could fall apart at the slightest touch. Fear overcomes him. His heart drops into the cavity of his stomach, making him nauseated.
He gathers her in his arms, and she tightens her grip around his neck. Her eyes are fixed on a spot on the far wall.
“It’s the first day of spring,” she says.
“It is.”
“When do you think it will happen?”
“I don’t know.” He buries his face in her hair.
“If we don’t go to sleep, maybe it won’t happen.”
“Sooner or later, the Sandman will come.” He chuckles but there is despair in his voice.
Outside the window, dawn approaches. And with it, bird songs, the first music of the day.
The man takes her hand and brings it to his lips. He brushes it lightly, tracing the green veins of her arm, memorizing it.
He has been imprinting her into his memory all night, on all the nights that passed between them. If he does it enough, he hopes he will be able to remember her. Like a piece of music.
He feels it. The haze of sleep. Only it is stronger than any he has ever experienced. It comes from deep inside him—a black hole that draws in all surrounding light.
He struggles to keep his heavy eyelids from closing. But how does one prevent a landslide from covering the entrance of a cave? Eventually it will consume it, taking away light until only a sliver is left. Then complete darkness.
“Good night, sweetheart. I love you,” he whispers and kisses her hand.
In a slow and deliberate move, he eases a ring off her finger. Warmth emanates from the silver metal. He puts it on his little finger, next to his own ring. She reaches up and kisses him. He tastes like the ocean. Salt and earth.
“Good night, love,” she says.
He is losing his grip. His body begins to slip into the warm embrace a rest promises. He presses his lips on her forehead. She lays her head against his chest and closes