The Tree of Knowledge, Daniel Miller [unputdownable books txt] 📗

back, closed his eyes, and gathered himself. He was exhausted, and the man who had been his father for the last sixteen years was dead. All he wanted was to sleep and dream, dream of a place where the Tree of Knowledge never existed. But he knew he couldn’t. He had listened to the serpent and taken a bite from the apple. He was no longer ignorant. He was awake. His life was no longer a life; it was a cause. Ying—and hopefully Weatherspoon—would be his partners in that cause.

He took a deep breath and began, “It all started when you came to my office with a piece of paper . . .”

Epilogue

“This is a celebration, not of my election but of our independence,” boomed Cristina Culebra into the gleaming silver microphone.

A crowd of one hundred thousand Californians rocked and jostled like a single mindless organism, hoping to catch a glimpse of the newly elected governor. Red banners and T-shirts gleamed in the sunlight like blood on a knife. Drumbeats rippled through the crisp fall air and echoed around the state capitol.

“For too long, we as Californians have been held down by bureaucrats in Washington, DC.

“For too long, your hard-earned money has been sent to other states and wasted by corrupt local officials.

“For too long, our elected leaders have ignored us and abandoned us.

“For too long, the Golden State has been cloaked in darkness.

“Today, we say: No more! No more income taxes. No more federal regulations. No wasteful spending. Today, I am here before you to officially announce California’s independence from the Union!”

The assembled throng screamed with delight, oblivious to the impact of the newly elected governor’s words. They were hers. They would follow.

“From now on, we are not Americans; we are Californians. From now on, we rise and fall together. From now on, our destiny is our own. And as your president, I will promise you that our future will be bright.”

Cristina Culebra paused, adjusted her crimson scarf, and pointed a long, tan finger at General Isaac Moloch, who stood over her left shoulder like a ghost. “And to those who would try to stop us, I would say one thing. There’s a four-star general and a Red Army that’s got our back.”

The final words of Cristina Culebra were drowned in chants of “Chris-ti-na, Chris-ti-na!”

The self-proclaimed president stepped back from the microphone and waved to the crowd, delighting in the power that was finally hers. She knelt down on the edge of the stage and shook hands with the screaming, crying citizens reaching up to touch their newfound savior.

From the side of the stage, Eva looked on, attempting to grasp the magnitude of what had happened and what was about to come. She had gained and lost a father in a moment. She stared with a nauseated air as her mother smiled and pressed the flesh of her unwitting victims.

She took one last look and walked away.

Acknowledgments

To my publishing team—Bethany Davis, Clete Smith, Georgie Hockett, and Christina Henry de Tessan—for taking a raw piece of clay and molding it into a finished product.

To all of the readers who have taken the time to read the book and enjoyed it. And even the ones who didn’t enjoy it. You’ve given my writing meaning.

To the independent booksellers who take chances on new authors like me. Your commitment to creativity and diversity enriches the world.

To my family, for always supporting my crazy dreams, no matter how far-fetched they may seem.

To my friends, who have always provided the steady humor and intelligence that I hoped to infuse into this novel.

And finally, to Lexi, my perfect match. Your relentless positivity and love gave me the strength and courage to finish this book.

About the Author

Daniel G. Miller is an entrepreneur and former business consultant with a master’s degree in public policy and economics. In his work in economics and consulting he witnessed the power of complex logic trees and mathematical models to predict real-world events. This experience with prediction in business inspired the question, “what if we could use math to predict everything in our lives”. From there, Albert Puddles was born. He currently lives in Dallas, Texas, with his wife, Lexi.