Something was wrong.
At first, it was the way a fleck of dust moved differently than usual, than it should have, and it made her nose twitch as if she was going to sneeze. Strange, she thought, but that was the most attention the abnormality was given. Tiny errors could be tolerated, after all. Perfection was impossible when humans were involved.
But then there was that creeping heat, which should have been impossible. Inconceivable. Unimaginable. Preposterous. She must have been imagining things; there couldn’t possibly be this much warmth in her log cabin. The fire was still low, just enough to keep her toes from freezing, but not enough to make her feel warm under her blankets.
But then she started to sweat.
“Absolutely not,” she cried, leaping up from her spot on the floor, which sent her book flying. Mari ran over to the fireplace, hovering a hand over the low flames. Nothing seemed out of sorts; the heat was how she liked it, how it should be. Yet, why did the entire library feel hot? Why was she perspiring? Why was something not as it should be?
Something was terribly, terribly wrong.
As she was the Monitor, Mari needed to alert the others of the disgusting bugs she noticed in the system. Hiro was in charge of Maintenance, but without the Mediator by her side, the game-obsessed brat wouldn’t pay her any mind. Therefore, she needed Fatima.
“Paradise,” Mari began, grabbing her coat and hat, “Open a Gate to Fatima’s world.”
The familiar hum of the program answered immediately, and Mari felt the shift of realities between Fall and Spring.
The Gate has connected.
She slammed open the door to her one-room lodge, face filled with annoyance, which then flamed into rage when she saw the condition of her world. The autumn auburn leaves of all of her trees fell with a sudden gust of wind, covering the perpetually wet ground entirely. Almost as quickly as they fell, the leaves melted into the ground, and where they disappeared, patches of grass sprouted up like weeds. The bare trees then budded and blossomed new, green leaves, littered with colorful flowers.
Spring suddenly arrived, filling Mari’s sight with green, green, green-
She wanted to puke.
“Paradise! Send Fatima a warning. I’m so not in a good mood right now.”
The program responded with a shudder, detecting the pure fury under the small girl’s usually calm voice. The message was sent immediately.
Mari stomped through the stone path leading outside her world with more force than necessary, kicking at the grass that wound its way between the rocks. Clumps of plants went flying, only to be replaced with even more. Mari was enraged.
“I swear I’ll rip out every last piece of stupid grass if that’s what it takes-” she ranted as she walked, rapidly approaching the strange white light at the end of the path, where reality fell away into a void. She stepped into the nothingness without hesitation, filling the gate’s silence with her grumbling.
The EDEN Project was made as a last resort. The world was failing, changing in ways that humans could no longer adapt to. Even the best brains found this problem unsolvable, because humanity was no longer a variable in Earth’s equation. They knew that all was lost, but at the very least, they could protect them. Give them happiness until the end. Give them Paradise.
“Fatima!”
Mari’s yell was deep, and it carried quite easily through the empty village of Spring. The humidity that came with Spring always bothered Mari to no end, and she could already feel the sweat build up under her coat. She regretted bringing it.
Fatima’s world was not as simple as Mari’s; it was filled with other people, always moving and talking and annoying Mari’s ears with useless chatter. The village of Berbice was small, and since Fatima’s knowledge of it was limited, many parts of the virtual space simply blurred like a fuzzy memory. The only areas that were displayed with clarity were the road and its surrounding houses, and at the end of the road, Fatima’s home. It was small, white, and ordinary, and Mari threw open its door with a ceremonious bang.
Immediately, the smell of curry hit her nose, mixed with a hint of incense.
“Fatima! Where are you? I need your help!”
Mari stormed through her friend’s home, glancing around to find the Guyanese girl. The kitchen was empty, save for the curry pot on the stove, and so was the living room, though the television was left on a random Bollywood movie. Fatima always favored the ones that starred Shahrukh Khan.
“Hey, Fatima? I know you got my message!” Mari continued. If she wasn’t downstairs, then she was probably in her room with her mother. Well, pseudo-mother if she was being technical, but Mari tried to avoid using the phrase around the other girl. Fatima often got angry when Mari pointed out the flaws in the program. They all did. Such truths were saved for when they really wanted to hurt each other, and was unspeakable otherwise.
Somewhere above Mari, a door opened.
“Sorry, I was napping,” came a soft reply. Fatima appeared at the top of the stairs, her eyes bleary and her hair spilling out of its braid. She usually hated meeting people when she was unkempt, but the urgency in Mari’s message made her forget about etiquette for now. The Guyanese girl met her friend below.
“What’s wrong? Has something gone wrong with your Paradise?”
“Wrong?” Mari squeaked, “Wrong? Words can’t even describe how horrible this is, Fatima! Everything is falling apart! You have to come with me now to find Hiro. He’s the only one who can fix this- Wait, he’s probably the reason this is happening! He never does his job right, always slacking off in his world and-”
Fatima held up a hand, her voice taking on a soothing tone. “Mari, I will listen to everything you have to say, but you must speak calmly. Otherwise, I cannot understand what I must do.”
Mari hated being told to calm down, but she needed Fatima’s help. Looking into her friend’s eyes, Mari took deep breaths, feeling the panic fade bit by bit. “Alright, I’m better.”
The other girl smiled, “Good. Why don’t you explain what’s happened over tea?”
Tea was good. Mari enjoyed tea a lot.
With the warm drink pooling in her stomach, the Monitor told the Mediator what happened to her world, how Fall suddenly turned into Spring, and how everything Mari treasured about her solitary Paradise was literally melting away.
Over the course of her story, Fatima’s frown deepened in concern. Something was definitely wrong. Paradise was acting up, which meant that Hiro wasn’t doing his assigned job, and that meant Fatima had to do hers. She rose from the table after finishing her tea, then quickly redid her braid.
“Alright, let’s go visit Summer. I’ll give Hiro a stern talking to for letting things regress like this.”
Mari smiled, satisfied, then looked up at the ceiling. “Paradise, open a Gate to Summer.”
There was silence.
Fatima laughed, “This is my Paradise, remember? Spring only responds to me.”
A bit embarrassed, Mari looked down at her feet as Fatima ordered a Gate to open.
The edges of the world they were in collapsed again, forming another path to another world. They left the house together and were about to enter the void when Mari paused, remembering something.
“Hey, Fatima?”
“Yes?”
“Why didn’t you say bye to your mom?”
“Mom?” Fatima asked, her eyes filled with confusion. “Why would I do that?”
Come to think of it, Mari realized, There was no one in the village.
They would be placed into pods of four; four so that the Paradises could be easily managed; four so that they wouldn’t get lonely; four so that they could still have a family. Spring, Summer, Fall, and Winter.
As usual, Summer was intense, filled with vibrant, neon flashes and overwhelming, electronic somethings. Mari lost her train of thought immediately when they entered, and she scowled so deeply that her face was in pain. She hated Summer the most out of their three seasons. Hiro was so obnoxious and loud that she got headaches just looking at him. Mari couldn’t even remember the last time she braved his Paradise, but she already felt it was too soon to be returning.
“Let’s just get this over with,” she groaned behind Fatima, trying in vain to use her hat as a guard against the blaring lights.
Fatima sighed and led the way through Hiro’s arcade world, teeming with all of his video game favorites. There were no streets in Summer, only arcade machines that made it seem like they were in a casino for children. Claw-machines, rhythm games, dancing games, foosball- you name the game, and Hiro would have it placed in his collection for him to try out maybe once before forgetting about it. Even for Fatima’s god-like patience, the constant nagging of machines begging her to play them was too much.
She hurried over the nearest go-kart and demanded they be brought to the Computer Palace.
As soon as they squished inside the crowded seats, the machine whipped them around and away towards Hiro’s “home.”
Mari was already preparing her insults for the Japanese boy.
When they arrived at the gates to the Palace, the girls were shocked to find that they were locked shut. Despite the fact that they could inside the stone walls where the flickering computer monitors were displayed, nothing moved to welcome them.
“Wow, Hiro,” Mari huffed, “Way to be friendly. Stupid nerd.”
Fatima gave her a sidelong glance, “You shouldn’t be talking. You’re just as obsessed with books as Hiro is with his games.”
Mari looked honestly offended, “I may be obsessed, but at least my world has class.” She pointedly looked at the glittering land behind them.
Before Fatima could respond, Summer suddenly shuddered.
The two could feel it, especially Mari, and nausea rose in their stomachs. Hiro was angry. Very, very angry. And Summer was scared of its master.
The great, wooden doors to the Computer Palace burst open like it was kicked, and out came the king of Summer himself.
Hiro, with his sweatshirt askew and bits of chips falling off of his face, barely glanced at the girls before he brushed past.
“There’s something wrong with Summer,” was all he said before calling a go-kart and ordering a Gate to open.
Fatima and Mari looked at each other in worry, then called out to him.
“Hiro, wait-!”
The boy turned, face bright red and twisted with anger.
“None of my gaming systems are working, and suddenly I can’t communicate with the arcade games outside the Palace. There’s something wrong, and I don’t know what it is!”
Mari rushed over and grabbed his sleeve in her iron grip, keeping him from sitting inside the mini car. She glared at him.
“Would you calm down and listen to what we have to say? We didn’t gather here just to visit you, you know!”
Hiro looked as if he was bristling from anger.
Fatima, sighing again, went between them and placed a calming hand on both their shoulders. With just a look, the two relaxed their tense shoulders and looked away in shame.
“We have issues we need to discuss, and that means keeping a calm head. Now, the two of you, start communicating properly. Hiro, you start.”
The boy glanced at her, then at Mari, then resigned himself with a groan. “Nothing in Summer is working. Well, besides the go-karts and Paradise itself, but none of the games are operating correctly. Every time I try to turn something on, it gives me a blue screen.”
Mari scoffed, “Well, if you actually did your job right, then we wouldn’t be having this problem, now would we?”
He glared at her, but managed to continue. “I tried to check up on EDEN and figure out why my Paradise was acting up. But I couldn’t. I’m locked out.”
The girls gasped.
“What,” Mari exclaimed, “But- but that’s impossible! You’re Maintenance! It’s your job to make sure everything works in all of our Paradises! Only you can access the EDEN program and interfere with it!”
Hiro, exasperated, replied, “Don’t you think I’m aware of that? It’s been my job since we’ve come here. I know EDEN better than anyone else! Well, I- I should know it better.” He sounded unsure now, the recent events making him doubt his own job within EDEN.
But as far as the three knew, Hiro was the only one who could access the program; neither Mari nor Fatima knew how to even find an access point. Their Paradises wouldn’t allow them to search.
“Then… what is going on?” Fatima began, her hands suddenly shaking. “Mari, Hiro, my head- it hurts!” Suddenly, the girl clutched her head, breathing heavily from pain. Mari immediately went to her side. “Hey! What happened, where are you hurt?”
“I don’t know!” Fatima gasped, “I’m suddenly… it’s hard to think!”
Hiro looked at her worriedly, “Has something gone wrong in Spring, too?”
Fatima could barely look up to answer, so Mari did instead. “Not just Spring. Fall has also been changing for the worse. I’ve lost my control over it.”
“Then there’s something seriously wrong with EDEN. Let’s go,” he said, calling the go-kart and increasing its size to accommodate all of them.
Mari gave him a confused look. “Go where?”
“Where else?” Hiro replied, his voice suddenly heavy, “We have to go to the core of the EDEN program.”
“Paradise. Open a Gate to Winter.”
The minds within each Paradise were wiped of unnecessary memories that would have kept them from being at peace in EDEN. They were all given roles so that EDEN ran smoothly. Fall was given the role of Monitor, in charge of detecting the smallest abnormalities in the system. Fall’s pod was given extra sensory nodes so that whoever was inside could feel unusual occurrences inside the program.
Spring was given the role of Mediator; this meant watching over the other three and making sure disputes didn’t get violent. An extremely crucial role, Spring’s pod was carefully outfitted with controls that, when necessary, could send calming stimuli to the other pods to quell a fight.
Summer was given the role of Maintenance, tasked with fixing any issues within the EDEN program so that the Paradises didn’t malfunction. Summer’s pod was not only given special access to the program’s core, but also a guidebook on everything that had to do with EDEN. Any questions could be answered through this specific database.
Finally, the last Paradise, Winter, was made in secret so that only Summer was aware of its existence. Winter housed the core of EDEN and was given a very important task, one that held the hope of humanity if ever the planet decided to forgive them. Winter was in charge of-
“I never knew that there were four Paradises,” Mari said as the go-kart brought them closer to the opened Gate.
“Well, common-sense would tell you that,” Hiro replied, raising a brow. “It’d be super weird to have only three of the seasons, right?”
“Shut up!” she retorted indignantly. “I was never given access to Winter, so I thought they just didn’t include it!” She paused for a moment to adjust Fatima beside her, who had passed out from the pain, “I mean, if you think about it, who’d ever want to live in Winter forever anyways?”
Hiro’s face, much to Mari’s surprise, scrunched up in sadness. There was a melancholy in his eyes that she had never seen before. She was almost expecting him to cry.
“Winter’s a pretty dreary place. You’d better be ready.”
She couldn’t know what he meant until she saw it with her own eyes. As the white void faded away, Mari was hit with a bitter, unforgiving cold wind that blew snow straight into her face. The go-kart vanished, no longer in Summer’s territory, and the trio were forced to stand alone, in a frosted wasteland that was Winter.
Before them was nothing but white, freezing snow, and a single black tower ahead. It rose indefinitely, high above the stormy gray clouds of the Paradise, far above the point at which their eyes could see. Hiro sighed and tugged Fatima’s arm over his neck.
“Well, let’s get going. Winter’s master will have an answer for us inside the Tower.”
“Wait-” Mari said hastily as she pulled Fatima’s arm over her as well, “I didn’t know Winter had a master! Why have I never seen them before.”
“You’re not supposed to. Technically, I’m not supposed to either. I should’ve never come into contact with the master of Winter, even though I knew this place existed. Winter was made to be an invisible being, hosting the EDEN program’s core, but never interfering directly with the other three worlds. It’s meant to be a reminder of the Old World.”
“O-old orld,” Mari stammered. The phrase was familiar, yet not at the same time. She could barely, softly brush upon the memories of an “Old world,” but she couldn’t grasp the concept. Hiro laughed at the expressions on her face.
“Can’t remember anything? Me neither. I only know that it’s inside Winter, along with EDEN’s core.”
She hated not knowing something almost as much as being told what to do, but Mari’s thoughts couldn’t come together to form an image of the “Old world.” What did that mean? Was she once a part of it? She tried- she really did- to comprehend it, but by the time the three reached the Tower, her brain was exhausted. It was probably impossible, and Mari absolutely loathed using that word on herself.
“Tower, open,” Hiro commanded. Usually, only the master of the Paradise could make such orders, but the Tower hummed in consent, sliding the black bricks of its walls away to form an entrance. The two dragged Fatima inside, the bricks sliding closed behind them.
The Tower was bigger than Mira imagined. The walls were lined with pulsating, light blue wires glowing with energy she didn’t recognize. She looked up, and sure enough, she couldn’t see the roof; only the never-ending vines of wires crawling towards the sky.
Hiro gently leaned Fatima against the wall, the walked towards the center of the Tower, where a glowing blue circle awaited him. He stated his name, “Hiroshi Fukushima,” then the girls’ names, “Mariposa Gonzalez,” and “Fatima Latif.”
The circle hummed, then illuminated Hiro with its light. Before the boy, screens appeared, all asking for his access code. He typed something in.
But the screen shook red and reset.
Hiro, as if expecting this, sighed and tried again. Though the result was the same.
The screens remained unchanged from their original forms, and Hiro looked back at Mari. “Yup, completely locked out. It seems like someone interfered.”
His voice rose, pointed and accusatory.
Mari shivered when she saw him.
A lanky pale teen materialized out of nowhere, his hoodie drawn up and over his face so that only his mouth was visible. Hiro made a point to stand between him and the two girls, his face tight with anxiety.
“Hey, Victor, it’s been awhile.”
If Victor heard him, he didn’t respond. He instead tilted his head over to face Mari, his thin lips pulling into a frown. “You brought the others. How predictable.”
“Predictable?” she echoed, glancing at Hiro.
“Yes, good girl, predictable,” he sneered. “You must have learned that word from one of you thousands of books in Fall.”
Was he mocking her?
Mari’s temper flared, “Don’t patronize me.”
He clapped languidly, as if her anger meant nothing but edgy words. “What good vocabulary our genius has.”
“Excuse me? Listen, Victor,” she spat, moving closer to him, “I don’t care for your attitude, and it seems like you don’t care much for mine, either. So let’s make this quick- Give Hiro his access back, fix the mess you made in our Paradises, and then skulk back into whatever hole you crawled from so we don’t ever have to meet again!”
Hiro had to physically intervene, blocking Mari from actually lurching at Victor. With the Mediator unconscious, her temper burned brighter than usual. To make matters worse, Victor’s lips seem to smile.
No, more like grin. It was an ugly expression where his mouth spread too wide, his teeth glistening under the blue luminescent lights of the Tower. Winter’s master shrugged.
“Oh, that’s right. If I give Hiro back his access, he’ll fix everything that I damaged and return to his game world, where he always goes on adventures and always wins and always becomes the savior of the universe.”
“Then you’ll go back to your little house library where everything is in perfect, eternal fall, where the ground is that right amount of moist from cool rain, where the trees are always their stunning bright colors, where the temperature is cold enough for warm blankets and low fires.”
Hiro and Mari stared at him in, their anxieties rising. Hiro swallowed, “Victor, I don’t know what’s wrong with you, but you’ve broken the rules. The Winter master must never interfere, let alone destroy the other Paradises! You have one job, and one job only, and that’s-”
“And her!” he suddenly screamed, jumping like he was deranged and waving a bony finger at sleeping Fatima. “She’s the best one! She’s almost like me, and completely different from you two cowards!”
“But she’s still bad… she’s still very bad! She hides away in memories she doesn’t have, imagining a world where she was still with her mother! But, her home. Is. Gone!”
Hiro yelled, “That’s enough, Victor! You’ve said enough!”
“Ooh,” Victor laughed, “Hiro is starting to sound his age. Do you want me to tell you all, then? Just how old you actually are?”
The two looked at him like he was crazy. “Twelve and thirteen,” Mari answered, her voice tight with anger, “That’s how old we were when we went into the EDEN program. It’s only been a few months since then. Fatima just turned fifteen.”
This seemed to make Victor hysterical. It was beyond terrifying to see such a skeleton-like teen laughing so harshly, so violently, as he pulled back his hoodie to reveal his eyes. They looked sunken from how dark his eyebags were, his face sallow and emaciated. Mari shook her head. Every person in the EDEN program was kept in perfect health, which meant that his current image was because he choose that appearance. He was obviously insane, and she turned to Hiro.
“Make him give you access, then abort his pod. He’s totally lost it and a danger to the program. I mean, just look at him!”
But Hiro looked down at her with solemn eyes. “Not that easy. He’s the master of Winter, not me. Plus, the Tower gives him special immunity. He can’t be aborted because he’s a necessary part of the program. He’s the program’s Memory.”
“Memory?”
“Yes! That’s right, Memory! Memory, I’m Memory!” he cried, his body shaking. “While everyone forgot, I was made to remember! I remember everything about the “Old world,” every last bit! And I was placed in here to decide if the program should end. So ding-dong!” Victor sung, “It’s time to wake up!”
Mari flinched.
“Victor, that’s a lie, you don’t have the authority to do that,” Hiro said slowly. “We’re supposed to be here forever. Plus, it’s only been a few-”
“You’re the liar, you fake hero!” Victor suddenly screamed, “A lie, a fake, a lie, a fake! Everything here is a lie! Your games, your books, and especially that girl’s mother! Every last human she’s made is fake, made from her imagination. You wanna know the truth? She doesn’t even remember her mother’s face.”
“Shut up!” Mari screamed back, “You don’t know Fatima at all! She loved her mother, so she’d never forget her face! She’s the only one who kept some memories because that’s her Paradise. It doesn’t matter if her mother here is made of data, she’s still in the image of her real mom!”
But Victor kept laughing.
“Stupid, stupid Mari! You’re all so stupid! Because I’m Memory, because I’m in charge of remembering, I can recall Fatima’s mother. And I also can look into the other Paradises. Guess what? More time has passed than you think.”
Their eyes widened.
“Enough time for Fatima to forget things, leaving her with only a blur for a mom!”
Mari had enough. She ran forward, beyond enraged, grabbing him by the collar of his hoodie and slamming her first into his grinning mouth. The impact was solid, physical, all signs pointing to real but-
“You think that actually hurt?”
His grinning, bleeding face still peered at her.
“I unplugged my pain receptors a long time ago.”
She released him, shaking in anger, but allowed herself to be pulled away by Hiro. Victor, staggering, stood up.
“Guess what again, you two? The others plugged into the EDEN program? They’re pods ran out of power and shut down a long time ago. Every program besides ours,” he waved his arms in a grandiose manner, tears beginning to stream down his face, “All dead. And I received every last dying message, because I’m Memory, just as you’re Monitor, you’re Maintenance, and she’s Mediator.”
Winter was in charge of receiving external stimuli from the pods, and organizing it into data within the core of every EDEN program. As the other three slumbered, Winter was exempted from the memory wipe and given the most important role of Memory: to retain all information of the past while the other three forgot, and to determine if and when the Earth was safe for humanities’ children to live in reality again. Winter was given this authority, and Winter alone.
“I don’t want us to die in here, in a lie,” he sobbed, still smiling with his bloodied face. “I’ve seen the outside, and it’s disgusting, putrid, and completely miserable. But it’s reality.”
“I don’t want to die without ever truly feeling the sun on my face again. I don’t want to die in a lie.”
It was like he was begging. His skeleton legs gave out beneath him, and he crumpled to the ground. Victor was scared, terrified of suddenly being killed within the pods. The only way to save him, to save themselves, was to shut off the EDEN program designed to protect them from the very dangers Victor wanted to face.
Leave the program? Leave their Paradises? Remember all the horrible things from the “Old world?” The phrase left a metallic, bitter taste in Mari’s mouth, making her feel like she needed to vomit. No, she couldn’t leave. Not now, she’d rather die happy!
Without knowing her real age.
Without remembering what reality felt like.
Without ever growing up, like she always looked forward to when she was young.
A memory from the “Old world.”
Mari and Hiro looked at each other at the same time, their eyes pricking with tears of their own. Silently, they agreed.
“Don’t do anything with the EDEN program until Fatima wakes up,” Hiro ordered. “We’ll talk about this then.”
In a barren future, where Earth has changed into a place uninhabited by humans, where the scars and wounds humanity made are visible everywhere you look, the sound of air escaping floats softly from within an underground bunker, and the four remnants of the “Old world” step into reality for the first time in decades.
