Neurono-Tek Neuroscience Center
West Suburbia of Philadelphia, Pennsylvania
Alex Pella sat behind his cluttered desk working intensely on a metal wristband. With a rose-tinted monocle, known as a microscoper, pressed in front of his right eye, he tinkered diligently on the micro-circuitry of his new invention. Sparks began to fly and a buzzing sound could be heard as he continued to work with his precision-guided instruments.
Usually immaculate in nature, his office looked more like a junk pile than a place of executive affairs. Covering most of the floor space, couches, end tables, and even hanging from the chandelier were wires, circuit boards, cogs, wheels, scraps of metal, and little gadgets everywhere.
The door to his office dematerialized. Alex had no time for intrusions and continued to work despite the interruption. Hoping his visitor might leave on his or her own volition, he kept his head down and continued laboring.
Soon after he and his colleagues discovered the cure for what was known as The Disease, his time became consumed with working on new inventions. With PhDs in both bioengineering and neuroscience, Alex had not only created the massive research center and hospital complex known as Neurono-Tek but had also engineered much of its ground-breaking medical equipment. Instead of running this internationally renowned institution as he diligently had in the past, he now cloistered himself in his office and worked around the clock on his personal inventions.
Alex heard footsteps draw closer to him as he concentrated on his project. Maybe it was his secretary? He hadn’t heard anything from her today.
“I’ll get to it later,” Alex said without looking at his guest. “I’m almost finished here.”
The footsteps drew nearer. Just as he was about to dismiss this unwanted guest once again, a few of his gadgets that were stacked next to him toppled onto his desk, almost hitting his hand.
Alex let his microscoper fall from his eye on his hand. Looking up, he was surprised who he saw entered the office. Usually one to make her presence instantly known, she had remained silent.
“Samantha?” Alex asked, noticing the smirk on her face. “Did my muon accelerator and neutrino adaptor fall by themselves, or did they receive a little help?”
Though absorbed in his work, Alex could not but help laugh to himself. Samantha Mancini was not only his first hire here at Neurono-Tek but a lifelong friend. Though a few years his senior and now in her late 40s, she grew up with him and the two were like brother and sister. In fact, one of his first memories of her went back to the age of two when she knocked over his block tower onto the floor. As he looked down at the inventions now toppled over on his desk, the recollection brought a smile to his face.
“Work, work, work,” she said in a commanding tone. “You don’t even go to board meetings any longer. You don’t seem to care about what’s going on with your business.”
She pointed at him. “Plus. Look at how you are coming to work.”
Alex looked down at his blue, short sleeve polo shirt, jeans, and sneakers, not knowing what she meant.
“What happened to all your designer suits?” she asked. “What happened to your obsession with punctuality, protocol, and the growth of Neurono-Tek? This business could crumble to the ground and it would take you at least a month to know what happened.”
Alex leaned back into his seat and began to recline as if there were nothing else on his mind. Though her voice was strong and commanding, Samantha’s face stood in sharp contrast. With young olive skin, high cheekbones, flirty green eyes, a bright smile and petite build, she made many underestimate both her mental and physical ability.
“I still know what’s going on around here,” Alex responded. “Just because I’m in my office working doesn’t mean I’m oblivious to the outside world.”
Samantha shook her head. “I bet you didn’t even notice that your secretary hasn’t been here for over a week,” she commented skeptically. “Human resources asked me who we should bring in as a replacement. And you know what I told them?”
“Do tell,” Alex responded nonchalantly.
Before answering, she pulled up a chair next to his desk. After swiping the gadgets that were on it onto the floor, she sat down and sternly looked Alex in the eyes.
Alex began to protest but realized it would be useless.
Samantha continued to stare at him. Still with a very youthful appearance, he looked easily 10 years younger than his actual age of 45. Also with olive skin, he was a handsome man with thick, black curly hair, broad shoulders, and strong facial features.
“Listen,” she continued in a serious tone. “I’ve known you since you were born. We grew up together. Our parents were best friends and all worked at The New Reality. We did everything together. When I introduce you to people, how do I do it?”
“I know,” Alex acknowledged.
“I say, ‘This is my brother, Alex Pella.’”
Alex nodded in agreement, knowing she was right. They were like siblings. In fact, because of his exceptional intellectual gifts, he graduated high school three years early and did both his college and PhD training with Samantha. Though Alex obtained two degrees and multiple other proficiencies, they graduated together and had been working together ever since then.
“You were always first in your class,” Samantha continued. “A fantastic athlete, popular among the women, and the best businessman I’ve even known. You’ve changed. Ever since we discovered the cure for The Disease and dispersed it around the world, you became a hermit. Even your fiancée Marissa says she barely sees you any longer.”
Samantha’s pride and love for her dear friend were clear in her voice. Once a more cynical person with a cold facade, she had been humbled by The Disease and the unwonted human suffering it caused throughout the planet. Instead of harping on all the negativity in the world, she now appreciated the love and positivity it had to offer.
Alex kept focused, concentrating on the reason for his abrupt change in behavior. Despite Samantha’s insistence there was something wrong, he certainly had appropriate reasons for his actions.
As Samantha continued to question him, his mind turned to other, more pertinent topics such as his current invention and more importantly, The New Reality.
He was still aghast at how The New Reality biotagged the entire earth’s population in a massive surveillance program, and he knew something had to be done to combat this injustice, along with all the other blatant injustices they were perpetuating. No one’s civil liberties were safe and nothing remained sacred. Using the biotags, the company could not only identify a person’s exact location, but they could also ascertain their mental state of mind. Because the brain created consciousness at a subatomic, quantum level, the biotags could integrate in the anatomic portion of the brain that generated a person’s consciousness known as the posterior cingulate cortex. Though The New Reality could not exactly read a person’s thoughts, they could certainly detect ominous quantum field fluctuations or vibrations that could signify trouble to their global New World Order.
He wished he could tell her his future plans. But Alex knew he couldn’t jeopardize either her safety or the outcome of his mission—at least for now. Instead, he changed the subject, “So what about my old secretary, Dawn? What happened to her?”
“I knew you didn’t know what was going on around here,” Samantha chastised. “Well, a few days after she got married last month—a wedding that you missed—she became pregnant.”
Alex shook his head. “I assume she did not have a New Reality sanctioned license.”
“Of course not. It was her honeymoon. She didn’t even know that she was pregnant until WOGs entered the building here last week and escorted her off to a NewREMA containment camp.”
I really am losing touch, Alex thought. The New Reality arrested my secretary right outside the office here, and I didn’t even realize what happened?
“Once the fetus started making red blood cells,” Samantha explained, “The New Reality picked up another life force and took her into a containment camp as a result of her defiance to The New World Order.”
Alex remained mentally focused, trying to control his outrage and hatred towards The New Reality and their NewREMA camps. Because of the countries around the world’s unfathomable deficit spending and insurmountable debt to The New Reality, the company had called in their loans in the most inauspicious time when The Disease had wreaked havoc across the planet. When they were unable to repay even a pittance of their loans, The New Reality usurped their sovereignty, creating a New World Order that fundamentally changed the planet.
Personal freedoms and individual thought had become a relic of the past. Central planning, massive regulations, and insurmountable taxation had made the accumulation of personal wealth almost impossible. Those bankers and businessmen who ran The New Reality became richer by the day, while the rest of the planet’s population wallowed in servitude and fought for the economic scraps that were left behind.
The middle class had been eradicated and an even playing field had been created for everyone except the extremely rich bankers and businessmen that essentially controlled everything—now, well over 99 percent of the world’s population shared in the same economic misery. Those dissidents who were brave enough to speak up about this new police state created by The New Reality or those who broke its rules, were immediately escorted to a New Reality Emergency Management Agency camp, NewREMA for short, for “reeducation.” Even Alex’s previously massively successful company, Neurono-Tek, neared a financial breaking point whereby staying in business would soon prove economically impossible.
“Can you believe it?” Samantha said. “Taken away even though she was legally married?”
Unfortunately, Alex could believe it. What transpired over the three years since the worldwide viral pandemic had been eradicated was a complete travesty. It reminded him of when the Eastern Europeans were freed from the brutality of the Nazis after WWII, only to be enslaved by the Soviets under Joseph Stalin.
“It’s a sin,” Alex answered. Again trying to change the subject, he asked, “So what brings me the pleasure of your company today? Or is this just a social visit?”
Samantha crossed her arms. “No,” she responded matter-of-factly. “It’s Thursday morning. The time we meet every week for over the past five years to discuss Neurono-Tek’s financial numbers. Plus, you sent me a memo last week to come at 9:00 a.m. because you wanted to leave early for your aero-bike race.”
“Yes,” Alex said raising his hand with a distinct recollection of the fact. “Our business meeting to discuss the numbers. Hopefully they are better than last week. With the heavy fines we were recently issued for the excessive rainwater runoff from our Neurono-Tek complex, we were almost in the red.”
“Well, I have good news and bad news for you then,” Samantha interrupted. “First let me ask you one thing. Is red your favorite color?”
Alex begrudgingly shook his head no.
“Well then,” she reconsidered. “I guess I only have bad news and more bad news for you.”
Before Samantha could continue, the door behind her dematerialized, revealing a hulking man in a blue Neurono-Tek uniform and matching cap. Resembling a bulldog, he carried a square box in his hands and stood at attention waiting to be allowed in the room.
“Dr. Pella,” he barked, “I have a package sent specifically to you labeled URGENT.”
“Phil, come on,” in Alex waved. “Put it here,” he said trying to clear some room, “on my desk.”
He marched over to the desk and placed it down robotically as if he were made of tin and needed oiling.
“Hi, Phil,” Samantha greeted, happy to see him.
Despite his Neanderthal appearance and gruff demeanor, Phil was a highly trusted Neurono-Tek employee. Held in the utmost regard among all personnel, he was extremely well liked. His roughness softened outside of work, and he frequently joined Alex, Samantha, and other company executives or scientists in his free time for a casual drink. On the clock, he took his job extremely seriously.
Before Alex could open up the box, Phil held up his hand. “Sir, I would prefer if I would open it. I’m not sure what contraband could lie inside.”
Not wanting to insult him, Alex answered, “Please.”
Phil ran his finger across the box top and patted down the packing foam that emerged when it opened. Once collapsed into small beads, Phil gazed in amazement at its contents. Though stoic by nature, his hardened facade cracked with a hint of a smile.
“Ma’am, sir, I think you better have a look.”
“Well,” Samantha chimed in, “let’s see what the esteemed Dr. Pella had sent to him.” She jested, hoping to liven up Alex’s spirits, “Maybe it’s another one of those muon thing-a-ma-doodles or a different accelerometer you ordered.”
She looked inside. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” She shook her head in disbelief. “No, it looks like you’ve received a huge ego accelerometer instead.”
“What are you talking about?” Alex said as he rose to his feet.
Inside the box he saw a beautifully ornate crown. Made completely of golden oak leaves and acorns, it was fashioned together to craft a breathtaking headpiece.
“For you, my queen,” Alex joked, gesturing to the package.
“Will that be all sir?” Phil interrupted, uninterested in non-pertinent banter.
“Yes, Phil,” Alex responded. “As always, I appreciate your services.”
Phil tipped his hat, did an about face and walked stiff-armed out the office.
“This thing is heavier than it looks,” Samantha went on to say, putting on the crown. “I don’t know who wore this, but either they had the neck the size of a tree trunk or used it solely for decoration.”
Alex pondered where he saw a crown similar to this one as he took a small strip of plastic out of this box. Upon touching it, a message appeared in red:
The key to changing The New Reality is to break the pound.
Albert Rosenberg
“Odd,” Alex thought. “What’s that supposed to mean? Plus, why would I be getting a package from Albert now, over three years after his death? And why would it be marked urgent?”
“What’s it say?” Samantha asked, trying to model the crown without slipping a disk in her neck.
Alex turned the card so that she could read it.
“Well, that makes completely no sense,” she responded. “The New Reality did away with the pound three years ago for their own universal currency. Plus, I thought that Albert Rosenberg’s been long dead.”
“He is,” Alex commented. “In fact, Albert entrusted me, personally, with his cremation and burial. Without any immediate family, his will and testament insisted on my sole participation. In fact, I was not only the only person at his funeral ceremony but also the only who knows where he was buried.”
Alex was not surprised by the lack of pomp or circumstance with Albert’s funeral. As a private man, Albert reveled in his anonymity and found social gatherings pretentious at best. However, Alex was surprised that he, instead of one of Albert’s close friends, cousins, or even executives, was chosen to execute the man’s final wishes.
Alex had known Albert ever since he was a young boy. Because his parents worked with him in the New Reality before he gained control of the company, Alex occasionally spoke with him throughout his younger years. When Alex lost both of his parents as a teenager, Albert took much more interest in the boy’s affairs and offered him advice and assistance whenever needed. Albert also took great pleasure in all of Alex’s successes, almost like a father would a son. Even when Alex was an adult, the two would meet once a year over tea for casual conversation. Albert enjoyed their intellectual banter over such subjects as politics, religion, and science.
“So then,” Samantha asked, steadying the crown on her head, “Why are you getting this crown now?” She jested, “Maybe the package got lost in the mail?”
“No,” Alex answered. “Albert was an extremely shrewd and intelligent man. If he sent this package three years ago and wanted me to receive it today, then it was certainly no accident.”
Samantha finally took the crown off of her head. Twisting her neck around to rid herself of the kink, she then brought it over to Alex. With a little curtsy, she held the crown out in front of her and said, “Sire, I think this is yours.”
Alex walked around the desk and took the crown. “Thank you, my lady,” he responded in good humor.
“Finally,” Samantha said. “A smile. I haven’t seen that for some time now.”
Alex inspected the crown, and was surprised by its weight. Understanding its historical context, he marveled at the ancient beauty.
“You think it’s real?” Samantha asked.
Alex rotated it in his hands and let it bounce a few times to better get the feel of it. “This is no forgery. Solid gold. Probably worth a small fortune.”
“Who do you think it belonged to? Looks Roman to me.”
“Close,” Alex responded. “It’s Macedonian in origin.”
“Macedonian?”
“Albert used to have a similar one on display in his massive Greco-Roman collection. That crown belonged to Alexander the Great’s father, King Philip II. It was discovered when his burial mound was excavated in 1977.”
“Could this be Alexander the Great’s then?” Samantha asked.
“I doubt it. Although this crown seems like a natural successor to that of King Philip II, Alexander’s tomb was never found. It was lost to history when paganism was outlawed by Emperor Theodosius I in the fourth century.”
“Well,” Samantha said with her hands out.
“Well, what?”
“Aren’t you at least going to try it on?”
“No,” he smirked. “I was just about to put it back into this box so we can get on with our meeting. I wanted to finish early today so that I could get my aero-bike ready for the race tomorrow.”
Before he could place the crown in the box, Samantha grabbed it from him. Not wanting to protest and make this conversation last any longer, Alex capitulated as Samantha placed it on his head.
“Are you happy now?” Alex jested as he bowed toward Samantha. “Can I take this thing off so we can get started with this meeting?”
“Anything you wish, King Alex,” Samantha responded.
Before Alex could grab the crown, he suddenly felt hot and clammy. Sweat began to bead down his temples while his pulse rapidly accelerated. The room slowly began to close in on him, and he felt as if he were about to pass out. “I… a…,” he attempted, staggering.
He could hear Samantha asking if he needed help, her voice growing more distant by the second, until her questioning became a faint whisper.
As the world around him began to go completely black, a bright flash of light suddenly overwhelmed all of his senses. In the next instant, he could see an impressive mountain towering above him. Trees covered its lower half while bare, gray rock adorned its uppermost region, which pierced the scant cloud cover in its seeming attempt to reach the heavens.
To his amazement Alex was mounted upon a horse, which trotted through the grassy plains along the valley. Looking down, he marveled at the stature of this beast, a beautiful black stallion with a long, flowing mane. The horse’s muscular physique made it appear is if it were chiseled from stone. As it trod, the ground underneath seemed to delight at its footfalls.
Alex thought, This feels so natural. He nudged the horse with his left heel, and it began to slowly gallop in response. Memories of Neurono-Tek, gadgets, and The New Reality faded away with each new step.
I’ve only ridden a horse once in my life, yet I feel like I know exactly what do to. He gave it a second spur. This time, the brilliant stallion broke into a full gallop. Alex clutched the reigns, lowered his head behind the horse’s mane, and eased the great beast into the nearby cluster of pine trees.
Picking up even more speed, Alex negotiated through the forest with the dexterity of an expert equestrian. The horse felt like an extension of his own body. No space was too tight, and no turn too sudden for the two of them. Exiting the trees, Alex felt exhilarated as his body was once again basked in sunlight.
“Alexander,” called a young boy running toward him from across the valley. “Alexander! Alexander!” the child continued to yell until he stood at his feet.
The child, out of breath and sweating profusely, bent over and took a deep breath. Alex noticed the boy was wearing a rather unusual type of attire for a child of his age. The long, light-brown tunic tied with a white rope around his waist made him look out of place for the 21st century.
“Alexander,” the child repeated. “There is word the king wishes to make amends with you. A messenger awaits. Come with me!”
The boy turned and ran back in the direction from which he came. Slightly confused, Alex hesitated a moment before calling, “Wait!” Intending to follow the youth, Alex went to give his mighty steed a quick kick with his left foot.
Before could bring back his heel, the world went black, sending him into a mental spiral of both confusion and pain.