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Novaro City, 2167…

Harper Holton sipped her tea while she listened to her friends talk about their evening plans. They were all trying to decide what they wanted to do tonight. “We should go dancing tonight,” Shannon Bellerose suggested as she reached for her teacup. Harper and Shannon had been friends nearly all their lives. Their fathers worked closely together in the new world government. Shannon’s father, Darius Bellerose, was the World Finance Minister for the Global Unified Nations, whereas Harper’s father was a world-renowned scientific mind that worked closely with the Department or Global Defence as a consultant on dealing with the Red Hand Militia, which had been a global problem for longer than Harper had been alive.

The RHM was a violent band of outlaws that terrorized god-fearing citizens. They were constantly attacking government transports and government depots. They were trying to bring down the system. They believed in chaos and anarchy. They were vicious, horrible murders and thieves led by a madman who was said to be horribly disfigured and certifiably insane. One Dimitri Petrov, he was the boogeyman parents used to scare kids into behaving and to stop rebellious teenagers from venturing outside the safety of the city walls. There was so much folklore about the man. It was hard to know what was and was not true. They called him the Immortal Dimitri. Some people swore the man could not be killed.

The only people that went in and out of the city walls were slaves. They worked in the cities but lived in the villages in the wasteland outside the tall walls. Because of the RHM, the GUN had erected hundred-meter-tall walls around the various flourishing cities. It kept the citizens inside safe from the ruins of the old world and the terrorist that called it home.

When citizens needed to travel from one city to another, they did so by transporter. An ingenious device that broke each person down on a molecular level and reconstructed them at another location. While inside the city walls, citizens travelled by chauffeured car. When slaves travelled, they did so on foot, or a few of them rode in on a ratty old bus in and out through the gates, which were all guarded by heavily armed military sentries that scanned the I-Chip of every individual that passed through the gates each day monitoring and keeping track of the slave population.

The I-Chip was a small bio-chip inserted beneath the skin of the right palm with a surgical needle at birth. The I-Chip contained on it all the personal, medical, and financial information of the individual it is implanted in. As a person aged it, more information was programmed into it. It had single-handed dispensed with the need to carry a wallet or any cards. When someone needed medical attention, they scanned their palm, and the medical professional had all the information they needed. When someone had to pay for something, they scanned their hand and funds were automatically transferred. When speaking to an officer of the law, they could scan their hands, and the officer had their criminal record. When applying for a job, a potential employer simply scanned their hand and had their employment history.

From what she had been told, the I-Chip was a fairly new innovation that came into use twenty-five years ago, but since Harper was only twenty-four, she could not picture life without it. In fact, Harper could not picture life before the plague that swept through the world twenty-five years ago, killing seventy percent of the world population. The history books they read in school had said the plague swept through the world at an alarming rate but then died out as suddenly as it had appeared. Harper’s father had been at the heart of the outbreak and had saved so many lives. He was a hero.

Since Harper was lucky enough to be born after the end of the plague, she and others like her were often affectionally referred to as the New Gen, the first generation of the new world. Harper did not know what the old world was like. She only knew what the elders told the young. That the old world was overpopulated, riddled with disease, famine, and war, it sounded like a horrible existence, and she was so glad she was born into an era of prospering and peace… sort of. The nations of the world had stopped fighting, but the world still suffered from a violent cancer they called the Red Hand Militia. If only they could get rid of the rebel hoard, the world would be a perfect place.

“Oh, dancing, I love that idea,” giggled Joyce Wayne, Harper’s second oldest and dearest friend. They had met in kindergarten. They went to the same school. Actually, many of the world government leaders sent their kids to the same school. Novaro City was the world capital and the largest political hub in the world. Joyce’s father was the most important man in the world. Victor Wayne was the elected World Leader of the Global Unified Nations. He was the man that ran the world. “What about you, Harper? You are so quiet today.”

Harper sighed. She knew she was a little withdrawn today, but that was because her mind was still obsessing over her disastrous night last night. For five years, Harper had been in a serious, committed relationship with her boyfriend, Ivan Yager. They had met in a bistro just like this. He had been watching her from his table and then had come over and asked her to dinner. They had been in love ever since. Or so she had thought. She had thought it strange that after five years, Ivan had never asked her to move in with him, and now, she knew why.

They had a scheduled date last night, but he had called to cancel, saying he was terribly ill and did not want to make her sick. At first, she had agreed, but as the day went on, she felt terrible that he was sick and alone with no one to take care of him, so she had decided to go over and surprise him and take care of him; only she was the one surprised to find he was not only not sick, but he was not alone. She walked in to find him having sex with another woman on the couch. She had left quickly, and he had tried to follow her to talk to her, but she had gotten away. He had been calling her all day trying to get her to talk to him, but she refused. She already felt like an idiot; she did not feel like listening to more of his lies. She wanted to avoid Ivan, but it was nearly impossible. They travelled in the same circles. His father, Yuri Yager, was the World Defence Minister, and he worked closely with her father.

“I am fine. Dancing sounds like fun. I could use a little fun,” she said, putting on a brave smile.

“Oh honey,” Shannon said, placing her hand over Harper’s, “you still thinking about Ivan? The man is a dog; you deserve better.”

“Maybe you will meet someone tonight?” Joyce suggested. “Take him home and put Ivan out of your mind.”

They were right. She should. Harper offered her friends a big smile. “Cannot wait.”