EverWorld (Book 3 of the Down World Series)

Epilogue

Years later, after the war ended and the soldiers came home, after the memorial candle was lit in the town square for the fallen, and the dust settled, and the rains returned, and the new world was begun, Adam and I took our daughter to Vietnam.

We didn't stay at the Airbnb I had seen in Alexei's door. Instead we rented a small home outside Ho Chi Minh City with a tin roof that tinkled like an old piano when it rained. There was a small garden in the back, and one morning, after the rain cleared, I laid out a checkered blanket in the fresh soil and let the baby crawl around on it. She worked her way over to the wooden frame that surrounded a chili patch, and grasped onto it with her two powerful little hands. Then she made a great straining face and pulled herself up to her squat little feet, managing to hold her balance for just a moment before falling sideways back to the blanket.

She squealed with delight at her accomplishment, and looked up at me with her big green eyes to receive a congratulatory kiss.

"Did you see that?" I called to Adam, who was making us a little lunch inside the house.

"Did she stand again?" he asked through the open window grate.

"Yes." I turned my head so he could see my smile. "Go on, Rain. Do it again. Show Daddy."

But when the baby heard Adam's voice, she gave up on her game. "Da," she said.

"He's coming," I assured her, and I watched the awe in her eyes as she took in the world that surrounded her, the clean air that filled her lungs. I liked to think I had something to do with that clean air, with the fact that coastal lands like this were still here, even if they were somewhat depleted.

I had been working with a team in Boston for a couple years on solar-powered planes. We had just completed our first successful prototype before taking this vacation. And every time we took a step forward, I thought of my daughter. Of the world she would inherit.

And the price so many had paid.

For the war had come. Just as Kieren had predicted it would. Not over Minerva this time, as she was still hidden deep within the bowels of the botanic garden, simmering with unused energy beneath Sage's feet. No, it was a similar invention, created by a group of scientists in China—a microchip implanted at the back of the head, buried beneath the hairline. That way nobody would know if you had it or not.

But without Alexei around to build the domes, those who did have them still lived among the masses, on a planet that even they realized they would have to save from the ravages of their own pollution if they ever wanted to breathe again. The progress had been slow, the war over information devastating. Kieren had fought bravely, and he came back broken but alive.

Last I talked to him, he was living with Stephanie in Montana. They'd been back together for a couple years now. Maybe that was how it was meant to be.

The sky above my head turned a magnificent blue then, and Adam came out in his swim trunks and a white T-shirt, carrying the lunch in a little basket that the owners of the house had left on the counter for us.

"Here, sweetheart," he said, handing it to me. "Let's eat on the beach." Then he scooped Rain up in his big strong hands and swung her in a wide circle in the air, making her cheeks flush red. A little gummy smile spread wide across her plump face.

I grabbed the blanket off the ground and followed a step behind, enjoying how Adam showed the world to his daughter. How he pointed out every flower, and told her the name and the color. How he took her little hand and extended it to the sky, drawing her focus to the brilliant blue that surrounded us. He talked to her like she could understand him, and sometimes I wondered if she could.