Redemption Prep - Samuel Miller Page 0,99

understand its origin. Which meant the Alohim were preparing to make their return. Humanity was almost ready for ascension.

“They asked two things of humanity, and Claude relayed them: a council of the world’s most evolved beings to ensure the species was ready, and an embassy to host them.”

Evan looked around him, trying to keep up.

“The Griou separated from the villages around them to form their own society. Their civilization would be geared toward evolution; they would reward the most intelligent among them; they would create a meritocracy that put the most evolved in power. They would be prepared when the Alohim returned.

“But the French Revolution meant there was no land or material available to village folk in France. Most of them had farmed the base of Griou their entire lives, with no mobility. It would be impossible to prepare an embassy in time. But . . . there was land in the American West.

“In 1804, two thousand Griou sailed to America, and upon arriving, began to walk until they found somewhere that felt like home; somewhere no one would find them. When they found Utah, completely empty, they settled, and they built their embassy, and they waited.

“And to ensure the continuation of their people in this new land, they would build a school, where they could train their young, influence more, and continue to evolve, so that when the moment came, they would be ready. For nearly one hundred fifty years, the Alohim Research Center—the Redemption Preparatory Academy—has been preparing for the arrival of the Alohim.”

It was silent for a moment. Evan couldn’t tell if the school made more or less sense, or even if Dr. Richardson was being serious. But he could still feel his wrists, bound to the chair. “So—what happened?”

“What’s happening, Evan, in the present. You’re in the embassy; you’re a subject. You’re a member of the most important—and ultimately, the only important—experiment in human history.”

Evan swallowed. “To Eddy.”

It caught Dr. Richardson off guard, and she almost winced before returning to her attentive smile. “Right, the experiment. Claude Richard was my great-great-grandfather. He was a true prophet, but he didn’t understand the message of the Alohim. He assumed their return would be immediate, in his lifetime, but of course the Alohim have their own understanding of time. Evolution requires hundreds of years; I knew it would take time.

“Moreover, he assumed the Alohim would return on their own to test humanity. What he failed to see was that the visit to Claude was their test. They weren’t going to return in the future on a randomly chosen date, just to check in. They were waiting for us to let them know.

“That has been my contribution to the mission of the Griou. I established the recruitment department, to search for the most evolved young people. I traveled to prestigious universities and found world-class minds, showed them the light and allowed them to design experiments and curriculums, geared toward evolutionary results. And for my own part, I began research into how we communicate.”

She stood up. “We’ve made unbelievable progress, evolving humans into more advanced states, both physically and emotionally. We’ve recruited humans nearly identical to the Alohim as Claude described them, physically. We’ve developed new technologies for sharing information across mediums of all different kinds . . . including the language of the Alohim.”

Dr. Richardson opened a plastic container on the back of Evan’s chair and began to pull out thick copper wiring. “The Alohim have evolved past verbal language. Instead, they’re able to openly share information through shared electron environments; a collective brain they can all access. No secrets, no manipulation, just shared intellect. That is where they’re waiting for us.

“Space itself can serve as a shared electron environment; most people don’t know or understand this. If you openly share information across electrons, you can openly share information across all of space. However, it’s a poor conductor, so the message sent needs extreme voltage, to cover enough ground to reach them. We know that, but we haven’t perfected it yet.” She paused. “But we will.”

“Ah!” Evan jumped as he felt an incredibly sharp cut on the left side of his forehead. Dr. Richardson held a small knife. “This part hurts a little.” She placed the end of one of the copper wires into the wound, and quickly closed it with tape. Evan could feel the grinding of the wire against the inside of his skin; the empty nerve receptors and blood vessels around it began to ache and scream