They remind her of herself and Eli when they were younger. It is too late for her and him to be together. But not for them.
“It was being apart that led them here,” she says. “That led us here. Haven’t we been doing this long enough?”
The lines between Eli’s eyes fold like a curtain. When he decided to leave Earth and his wife, he severed a part of himself. A part that was weak and possessive. And he is better for it. He can see the true meaning of life. There is no life in death. To live is to survive. And he will live.
He is no longer hindered by a physical body. Without it, he is free. Just as she is. Both are digital essences of themselves because he could not bear the thought of life without her. Though he knows she may never forgive him for it.
Now they are on opposing sides. He as the enforcer of order. She as the catalyst for change. She speaks of the “right thing to do.” For him, that has always been to protect the Four Cities at all costs. Except one. He can never hurt her. Even if she will be his undoing.
“Are you tired of this life?” he asks, his voice gentle.
“Just as you have your vision, I have mine.”
“It’s futile. Tabula Rasa can never be stopped. It’s life. Like breathing, eating, making love. It will continue to happen until the world perishes.”
There is no escaping Tabula Rasa. She knows. A long time ago Eli won. She and the Resistance watched helplessly as he succeeded in genetically engineering the next generation of humans to forget. The stealer of memories is embedded inside every citizen of the Four Cities. It is his fail-safe against the wicked side of humanity. But they can still dream.
Chapter Twenty-Six
The sound of birds chirping comes from somewhere outside the warmth of the Victorian house on the hill. Spring is here. Through the windows, a woman sees tiny green buds peeking out from the tips of the otherwise barren branches, readying to unfurl from their long restful hibernation. Right on time. Just as the Planner intended.
She runs her finger absentmindedly on the engraved lines of her silver ring. The feel of it calms her. She leans her head back against her lover’s chest. On his warm lap is her favorite place to be when they are in quiet repose. He does not mind the constant weight of her body on him. He prefers it. Her presence is as familiar to him as his own.
He is reading. In his hand is an old book with a cover ragged from age and use. On the table next to them is a stack of tattered tomes of all sizes. Some appear as if they might disintegrate if handled without care. He loves the smell of them, these containers of memories—earthy and nostalgic. They found them here in the house.
His eyebrows are knotted in deep thought. He has been reading, searching, for a way out. He wants to believe there is an answer hidden in the wisdom of books. He wants to keep what they have forever. But she knows there is no such thing.
They have four years before they hit the reset button and start anew. Everyone knows this. Everyone is taught it. In four years, the past will cease to exist. She will no longer remember him. Her mind will shed itself of her name, her life, and even this moment. He cannot bear the thought. So she lets him read.
A question comes to her.
If a tree falls in a forest with no witness, not even itself, would it remember?
Yes, she answers.
There would be a physical consequence of its fall. A gouge on its bark. Or a broken branch. An invisible trace. She does not know how she knows. But she does.
She studies the contours of his face. His serious face carries the weight of the world. She reaches out and massages the spot between his eyebrows—the deep line that appears as if someone had tried to cut out his third eye. He looks at her and smiles. She knows. Her heart, too, bears a mark of a fall.
Love endures.
Dear reader,
Thank you from the bottom of my heart for reading Reset. I began it after a very frustrating night of writing. I decided to erase what I spent months writing and started over with a blank slate. Tabula Rasa. As I was staring at the white page, I thought, what if humans could reset our lives every so often? What life would we have? What kind of world would we live in?
The world of Reset was inspired by John and Yoko’s “Imagine.” A song that’s more than a song, it’s a call to action—to imagine a world of peace, a society rid of greed, a place where everyone lives in unity. For the characters in this world, the price for this utopia is memories. For Aris and Metis, it means they’ll lose and find each other cycle after cycle.
Is it necessary for memories to be erased in order for people to coexist in harmony? The answer would depend on whether one has faith in humanity. The Planner didn’t. I do. We all are a byproduct of our history, but we are also capable of redesigning our future. The brain can be rewired. It can adapt and change as a result of experience. We can reassign new meanings to old labels. We can embrace positive ideals with action. We can choose love over fear as our guide. All without having to erase our memories.
Just as “Imagine” asks us to take a journey of imagination toward a better world, it is my hope that Reset asks the same of you.
With optimism,
Sarina Dahlan
June 30, 2020
Acknowledgments
Reset would not be what it is without those I’m grateful to:
My husband, who read the many versions
