Chronicles From The Future: The amazing story of Paul Amadeus Dienach

As for the other three–Hilda, Silvia and Aria–they are bound together by a special friendship, different from their friendship with Juliet, which is a very recent one. The latter, of course, knows it, but she doesn’t mind in the slightest since she sees how much they care for her.

They met on Christmas Eve eight years ago, in the Valley of the Roses in one of the palaces of the Lorffes—another ruling class similar to the Ilectors

—where they, according to Hilda, along with many other teenage girls, carefully hand-picked among thousands for their natural beauty, dressed in white and holding torches, were welcoming the Ilectors to the reception after the great evening mass. They describe it as their best childhood memory, like a dream that was later hard for them to believe came true.

Eric is finally coming! He’s holding some sort of racket and some other smaller paraphernalia needed for a game or sport I haven’t yet bothered to ask about. He’s wearing sandals and he is naked from the waist up. He looks fresh and excited. The acquaintance between Eric and Aria was a fateful one. They’ve been together for fourteen months and no one knows how long this relationship will last. This special girl, with her early inclination to study what she believed in since childhood, has managed, in her twenties, to be present at excavations in America together with great experts and who, based on a bold intuition—almost like an inspiration—argued for her own conclusions on the life of the Incas, findings that were later to be proven true! This inherently wise young woman, whose views were vindicated in so many aspects, who made her own statements before an audience of thousands in the megacity of Norfor two years ago, who lately had a whole crew of young people to help her with her research, had given up everything for this dark-haired young man, who might have an exquisite heart, but could not bear to hear a word about her job. A while back, Stefan heard him say, “Talk to me about sports, talk to me about travels, about swimming or whatever else you want, but don’t say a word to me about God and all these ancient treasures!”

They’re ready to go. It’s time for the prayer. I won’t be writing till tomorrow.

THE TWO-YEAR GLOBAL SERVICE, EVERYDAY LIFE AND DEMOGRAPHIC REGULATIONS6-IX

I asked Stefan to leave me alone for the day so I could rest. I need to think about many things. “Stefan... Stefan,” I say to myself every so often, “I think you’re wrong about Silvia’s feelings towards Andreas Northam.”

I constantly criticise myself and the feebleness of my character. “What are you doing to yourself, you poor lunatic?” I think, “You’ll be very sorry one day…”

I feel the insidious and deceitful attraction of chaos. "Sylvia… Sylvia...” I keep repeating in my head. What a strange name… I like saying it out loud. The fact that she’s from another, more superior race from a different era gives her an extra, metaphysical charm.

The voice of reason whispers in my ear: “Be careful, you poor wretch… The serenity of the heart is as important as the health of the body; you will only appreciate its value once you’ve lost it.” And the truth is that I must not forget how essential the absolute serenity of the heart is in my case, and it is my duty to protect it. The infinite horizons of knowledge that lie ahead demand my undivided attention and constant meditation.

At the same time, however, I take pride in realising that on no occasion should I lack confidence. Not only have I got the looks but also the heart and inner wisdom, so, based on what I’ve seen from all these people, they are no better than me. I could easily be one of them without being subject to comparison. I feel like I’m entering their world for real now! 7-IX

Stefan was avoiding taking me to cities and showing me the life there. One day, when he was standing silently on the terrace, I pointed to the exquisite nature before us and said, “It’s a happy life you have here… You’ve got everything. You lack nothing.” Immediately after that, I made a vague reference to the duration of this holiday. At first he looked at me, puzzled. Then he smiled and, with feigned fatigue and supposed indifference, he let his head drop on the back of the armchair. “Oh yes…” he said, gazing far into the distance. “I was lucky. From seventeen to nineteen, I happened to find great job opportunities and do good business back then. ‘So young?’ you might ask. Yes, so young, strange though it may seem to you. Within two years, not only did I manage to pay back my parents for all the money I had cost them up until then, but also save enough money to secure a comfortable life for the rest of the days I am destined to live.”

I detected a note of sarcasm in his last sentence so I showed him, in my own way, my disbelief in every word he said. I smiled and asked him why someone would give up such profitable work so prematurely.