In a utopian safe haven aboard the New Eden, a self-sustainable science vessel, young Eva, her scientist grandmother and a diverse microcosm of humanity face devastating loss during an apocalyptic Earth event and discover the unfortunate reality that not all of mankindâs sins have been washed away.
Eva, a brilliant but angst-ridden 18-year-old, is frustrated by the insanity she sees everywhere she turns. Incivility in Politics. Gun violence. Climate change. Wars. Pollution. Greed. Power. Injustice. It all seems too much, and she feels powerless to make a difference.
Through a lucky set of circumstances, she finds herself joining her grandmother, an award-winning scientist, on board the New Eden, a combination residential cruise ship and floating science center, shrouded in mystery. She spends the summer of her dreams immersed in mind-boggling scientific breakthroughs that she feels could save humanity. Then just as Eva starts to believe in her ability to help heal the planet, her world is turned upside downâ literally and figuratively.
Eva and the New Eden community have to learn to understand, navigate, and save themselves from the danger of the new world in which they find themselves. Is it the end of humanity? Or a new beginning?
In a utopian safe haven aboard the New Eden, a self-sustainable science vessel, young Eva, her scientist grandmother and a diverse microcosm of humanity face devastating loss during an apocalyptic Earth event and discover the unfortunate reality that not all of mankindâs sins have been washed away.
Eva, a brilliant but angst-ridden 18-year-old, is frustrated by the insanity she sees everywhere she turns. Incivility in Politics. Gun violence. Climate change. Wars. Pollution. Greed. Power. Injustice. It all seems too much, and she feels powerless to make a difference.
Through a lucky set of circumstances, she finds herself joining her grandmother, an award-winning scientist, on board the New Eden, a combination residential cruise ship and floating science center, shrouded in mystery. She spends the summer of her dreams immersed in mind-boggling scientific breakthroughs that she feels could save humanity. Then just as Eva starts to believe in her ability to help heal the planet, her world is turned upside downâ literally and figuratively.
Eva and the New Eden community have to learn to understand, navigate, and save themselves from the danger of the new world in which they find themselves. Is it the end of humanity? Or a new beginning?
 I stepped to the edge of the deck, leaning out, seeking a glimpse of the island, its shape so familiar from the many boat trips weâd taken in the area. I was worried about the damage Iâd see. We were warned it could be extensive. All members of the N-Med team were on standby to help with injuries as needed.
I was extremely concerned about the people who lived there. I knew some of them. But they were resilient, I told myself. The people of the Virgin Islands have withstood a lot of tragedies over the centuries. They would be OK. I wanted badly to believe it.
I searched repeatedly for land, scanning the horizon, straining my eyes. Still, I didnât see it. I thought the Captain must have spotted it far off in the distance and was just giving us time to prepare ourselves. But that wasnât exactly the case, because when I spotted it, my stomach dropped. I ran.
I ran out of The Gardens, flew down the eight flights of stairs, and burst into Gramsâ room. She had to see this. Grams knew St. Thomas. She would surely tell me there was a mistake.
But when she and I went outside on her balcony, we could both see it clearly with our naked eyes. There it was. It wasnât a mistake. My emotional pendulum jumped out of its box again, swinging wildly, first to disbelief and then to the other extreme. To realization.
For me, this was the moment that denial was no longer an option.
The only thing left of St. Thomasâmy childhood refuge, my favorite place in the worldâwas the tip of Mountain Top, former home of the islandâs largest duty-free gift store that proudly boasted âWorld Famous Banana Daiquiris.â Former location of the islandâs TV and cell towers.
At elevation 1500ft, Mountain Top, a lush jungle oasis with an amazing view of Magenâs Bay, was nearly the highest point on St. Thomas. It was now little more than a large rock jutting out barely above sea level, its majestic antennas reduced to a mangled heap of metal.
That was all there was.
Window
 When a plane goes down, in a horrifying but thankfully rare occurrence, itâs not just because something vital failed. Itâs because several unlikely and unfortunate things happened simultaneously. Iâve read that a plane is designed with layers of checks and balances so that if any one thing fails, thereâs always several backup systems. Until there isnât. When a plane goes down, it means a number of unexpected things went disastrously wrong all at once. Itâs like the universe conspired to align the perfect set of circumstances for a perfectly awful outcome.
Thatâs sort of what happened to me, but in reverse. Several unlikely and very fortunate thingsâthough I take issue with that choice of wordâhappened that let me, and a few lucky others, witness the unthinkable.
OK, I donât want to be dramatic. The world did not actually end. I mean, the Earth is still spinning on its axis, and it still circles the sun. The Earth is OK. But humanity will never be the same. Humanity experienced a hard reset. And I was there through it all.
When I think back on it from my vantage point now, I see it as though Iâm looking through an old, cloudy, cracked pane of glass. I picture it in some ways quite vividly and yet also somewhat distorted. I remember it as I lived it as that lucky teenager such a short time ago, though I canât help but color it with the insights of who Iâve become now as a result. Iâm sure my personal trauma and loss combine to blur my memory and alter my take on the Event and its aftermath. So, I apologize for any inconsistencies or factual errors. But this is my memory, my truth. As I lived it.
Iâm sure youâve heard the expression that when God (if you believe in that sort of thing) closes a door, He opens a window. Thatâs supposed to make you believe that adversity brings opportunity and for every path in life closed off, thereâs another, perhaps better way forward. After all Iâve been through, Iâm not sure what I believeâabout God, destiny, life, death, the nature of humanity. All of it.
I donât pretend to have the answers. And I donât want to play judge. I simply bear witness. So let me take you with me through this filmy, cracked window.
Was what happened a tragedy, or was it for the best? You can decide.
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PART 1:
BEFORE
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Grams
 Evelyn Carol Long was born January 17, 1967. She grew up in the idyllic rural community of Laurel in the Chehalem Mountains area of northwest Oregon. To the world, she was an astounding woman who blazed trails in the world of science. To me, she was just Grams. I mean she was amazing to me too, but in a wholly different way.
When I think of the Grams from my childhood, I have these very vivid images: her face sparkling with glitter, her hands dotted with paintâfrom the endless crafting projects we were always working on; us in the kitchen, covered with flour, laughing while we mashed bananas to a pulp for banana bread; Grams down on her hands and knees, rolling on the ground, running crazy laps around the houseâwhatever the game required.
My mom would ask her, âHey Mom, how come you never did all that fun stuff with me?â But of course, she was kidding. Sort of. She loved that Grams was so involved with us girls even if there was a bit of truth to the question.
Grams would reply, with just a shadow of regret, âBecause I was too busy then.â Then sheâd smile her brightest smile and add, âBut Iâm not now. So here I am!â And sheâd roar and chase Ana and me around the house while we squealed and ran.
***
I loved to hear Gramsâ stories when I was young, and she loved to tell them. My favorite was the story of her name. I must have made her tell me 100 times.
âTell me about your name, Grams,â Iâd beg.
Sheâd reply something like, âI always hated the name Evelyn. When I was a little girl like you, I thought it sounded like an old ladyâs name. I wanted a name like Jessica, Stephanie, Becki, or one of the other cool names that were popular. I was so jealous of those popular girls and their popular names. I couldnât change it though, so I went by âEvieâ when I was young.
âWhen I went off to college at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, I finally started using the name âEvelyn.â By then I thought it sounded sophisticated. I wanted to be taken seriously.â
âI love your name, Grams,â Iâd tell her.
âI do too. Now. So, see, Eva? Thereâs an important lesson here. Sometimes peopleâs perspectives can change. Something you once thought was bad, may actually be good.â
I tried to understand that, but it was a bit much for a young girl. It wasnât until much later that Iâd truly understand.
***
I was born on January 18, 2014, the day after Gramsâ 47th birthday. In fact, Momâs water broke right on the floor at Delmonicoâs, one of the oldest and most famous NYC steakhouses, during Gramsâ birthday celebration dinner. Mom gasped and whispered something to my dad, who proceeded to accidentally spill a bottle of white wine on the floor to cover Momâs embarrassing puddle. They skipped dessert, left a hefty tip, and headed straight for the hospital.
So, Evelyn was very much on Momâs mind when I was born early the next morning. Later when I learned I was named as a nod to Gramsâmy âEva Lynnâ to her âEvelynââit was one of the few times when I felt really special as a child.
I knew people loved my Grams and she was important. The framed magazine cover of her and Gramps that hung in the hallway of my childhood home served as a daily reminder. I loved her. I admired her. I wanted to be her. I felt that by giving me her name, she gave me a little bit of her shine.
***
Looking back, when I saw her that first day at the port, I thought Grams looked good. I mean really good. In fact, it reminded me of something my mom used to always tell me.
Mom would say, âYou know, people would always mistake your Grams and I for sisters. She had me at such a young age and looked so young herself that when I was in high school, almost no one believed she was my mom.â
Iâd heard endless stories of how people of all sorts were amazed by Gramsâ youthfulness.
Grams told me this one herself. âMuch to my chagrin, there were timesâa few too many actuallyâwhere people thought I was your Grampsâ daughter, not his wife! Can you imagine?â
Actually, I could. I also knew Grams cringed at those episodes. But it was bound to happen. Grams was very youthful and energetic. When she took me places, she was always mistaken for my mother. Everyone was shocked when I introduced her as my grandmother.Â
Whenever she got compliments on her young appearance, Grams would always deflect by saying she was just lucky and thankful to be born with âgood genesâ (this being a bit ironic since her field of expertise was gene sequencing and therapies).
Then, she was just Grams, youthful, sure, but from a kidâs perspective adults are always kind of old. From my adult perspective now though, when I saw her at the port, I couldnât help but think Wow! She looked great. Really great. I could only hope to look so good at 65. She really and truly looked not a day over 50.
Sheâd been on the ship for about a year now, and I hadnât seen her in all that time. I thought life at sea must have been kind to her. Moving onto that ship was the best thing that could have happened to her.
The last time Iâd seen her, she was finally starting to come out of her funk. Being alone in the world again had been very hard on her. It did more than just age her. It took away her identity as being half of the dynamic duo. She had a really rough year after Gramps died. We almost thought weâd lose her too.
But then came the invitation. Initially, it gave her back a little spark of her old intellectual self. But there was obviously more to it.
Last year, as we dropped her off at her new home aboard the New Eden, she still looked pretty bad. Old. Thin. I think diminished is a word that sums it up. A year ago, she didnât look a day younger than 70. Our family had hoped that encouraging her to move onto the ship would be a good thing.
It was.
***
I was always closer to Grams, but Gramps was amazing too. He taught me so much, including how to ice skate.
âWhen you grow up in Canada,â he explained, âplaying ice hockey is a rite of passage. I loved it. The boys all played hockey. The girls all learned to figure skate.â
This was always the start of the âEveryone in this family must know how to skate!â lecture. We knew better than to argue.
So as soon as I turned four years old, he enrolled me in lessons and took me skating once a month at Wollman Rink, Rockefeller Center, or wherever else we could go depending on the time of year.
He also taught me to build thingsâand more importantly, he taught me (or tried to) that I could create anything I could imagine and that I could do anything I wanted.
He would always say to me, âThe World is Your Oyster, Eva.â
The world is your oyster. What a weird expression. It means the world is full of opportunity and itâs yours for the taking. I get that. But why an oyster?
Anyway, he said it so much that I came to think of him as the Oyster Man. In hindsight, I guess he said it so much because he knew I needed to hear it. Just like Grams had.
Gramps was full of self-confidence. It seemed he was born ready to tackle anything and never had any doubts about his abilities. He didnât worry at all about what people thought or if he could succeed. He just jumped in and succeeded. He really believed the world was his oyster. And for him it was. Well, him and Ana.
Gramps and Ana were like peas in a pod. You could see them both light up when they were together. Ana embraced every challenge Gramps threw her way and exceeded expectations every time. Me, not so much. While Gramps never treated me any different, I felt different. I felt lesser than my sister.
To encourage me, he would always say, âRemember the oyster, Eva.â
Iâd smile and say, âSure, Gramps.â
But I could never find my inner oyster so to speakâthat which came so naturally to him and Ana. Not then at least.
***
I loved Gramps, and he did try, but it was Grams who truly understood me. One day when I was in middle school, when I was old enough to really grasp it, Grams told me about herself. Not just who the world saw, but who she was inside.
We were strolling through Central Park, coming back from somewhere I donât remember. But I do remember the conversation. She said she wanted me to understand her. Not as my grandmother, but as a person. The conversation left a huge impression.
âWhen I was your age, I was just like you, Eva,â she told me.
âIn what way, Grams?â I asked. It didnât seem possible. She was so perfect. I was soâŚnot perfect.
âWell, I knew I was smart to some extent, but I never felt as important or as capable as other people. I didnât fully believe in myself or my abilities. I was constantly fighting this demon of self-doubt.â
I could certainly relate to that. I doubted myself all the time. It was the one thing I was good at. But I couldnât believe she did too.
âBut youâre so successful now. How did you fight it?â I asked.
âThrough a lot of effort,â she laughed as she said this.
âWhy did you become a scientist, Grams?â I asked, wanting to know more.
She answered by telling the story of her own mother, my great grandma, Marilyn, who I donât remember because she died when I was three years old. Great Grandma was a woman from the generation where the most important thing was keeping a good house and raising a family. Thatâs how Grams understood it at least. At that time, the generation of my Great Grandma, this was held as the perfect female ideal.
âThe thought repulsed me,â Grams admitted. âBut your Great Grandma loved it. Raising kids. Taking care of the family. She was made for it.
âYou know, itâs embarrassing to admit this now, but itâs important that you know this, Eva,â Grams confessed. âMy motivation to succeed in the field of science came mostly from a very strong desire to not be my mother. A scientist was about as far from a housewife as you could get.
âWell, it was that and to please my dad,â she quickly added. Grams was admittedly a daddyâs girl.
Gramsâ father was born Adolph Gustav Lange in 1937 Nazi Germany. His family lost everything and was geographically split during the war between East and West Germany. He grew up in Soviet occupied East German. As soon as he turned 18, he escaped and came to America, where he promptly changed his name to Alfred Gregory Long.
He was so thankful for his life and the opportunity to succeed in America that he worked incredibly hard to ensure he did. He learned English, joined the Army, and then became a craftsman for a large technology company in Oregon, while also working many side jobs. He provided well for the family.
He taught his daughter, Evelyn, the value of working hard and doing the best possible job you could. The blood of many generations of German perfectionists ran through his blood, and into Grams. She was his shadow, his little apprentice. She was the closest thing he had to a son. She was fine with that role.
She said, ââYou must work hard and succeed, Evie,â heâd constantly tell me. He was always talking about America as the land of opportunity. He wanted more than anything for me to make my mark. He didnât see any reason why I couldnât. No pressure, right?â she joked and laughed.
âBut, to answer your question, I really felt I could relate more to a manâs world, and science was definitely a manâs world.â
She continued, âEva, I really wanted to be somebody, mostly to please him, but also to prove it to myself.â
***
I loved Gramsâ stories. I couldnât get enough. She always seemed to understand my questions, and her answers had a way of making me feel better.
âTell me about when you were little,â I asked her once when I was in grade school. âWere you a good student?â
âWell, you already know that I didnât want to be a housewife. I probably figured that out when I was about 9 or 10 years old. I hated doing dishes. I hated cooking. I hated sewing. But I knew I had to be a good student to do anything else. So, yes I was. I worked really hard. By 5th grade, I was a straight A student. We had something called the Talented and Gifted program. I was part of that.â
âDid kids make fun of you for being such a good student?â I wanted to know, mostly because I was getting teased.
âYou bet. I was called a ânerdâ and a âgoody-two-shoesââdo they still use those terms?â she asked me in return. Looking back, Iâm sure she sensed the reason for my questions.
âNo, not really. But they do call me a teacherâs pet and smarty-pants,â I replied.
âOh, yeah. Well, I got those too,â she admitted. âBut donât you worry, Eva. Ignore them. Donât let it faze you. Set your goals and just be your own person. If I would have let the silly names and jealousy bother me, I never would have gotten into MIT and become a scientist.â
She told me about MIT too. She entered the university with money in her pocket because of a large scholarship, but a huge confidence deficit. This was an ongoing theme in her early years. Looking back, she felt the lack of confidence might be part genetic and part learned (as her mother never had any sort of self-confidence). But she also felt that it was because during those years, there were so few female role models. Every step was new and scary, and it felt like so much pressure to succeed. Failing was not an option.
âIâm sure everyone worries about failing,â she explained. âBut for me, failing wasnât just personal. I was the first person in my family to go to college and I was a woman. Failing felt like letting down my family and all women who were trying to achieve bigger things.â
I remember the first time I heard that. It was hard for me to believe at the time. Eventually I came to understand what she was talking about. Gramsâ generation was really the first where the opportunity for girls was somewhat on par with boys. Girls were finally starting to be told that they could grow up to be more than wives and mothersâthey could be anything they wanted to be. I guess Iâm lucky. For me, thatâs been the only world Iâve ever known.
âIt was a lot of pressure,â she added. âBut you know what? I took that pressure, that fear of failure, and I used it to my advantage. I planned, studied hard, and executed to the best of my ability. Whenever you fear something, Eva, just jump in with both feet and tackle it.â
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This is a book created by an expert writer of Nonfiction who has little idea how a novel should be structured. The result is a tip of the hat to Apocalyptic Sci-fi, but the reality is a fascinating textbook on up-to-date advances in the ecological sciences. It is also a great character study of a developing genius, but that still doesnât make it a good novel.
The quality of the writing is the strength of this book. I have never read a better explanation of the malaise our society is feeling right now and the causes of it. The main character â a high-achieving teenager with personal demons â feels those fears intensely and gives us an emotional focus for them. Unfortunately, it takes about a quarter of the book to lay this all out, during which we make no progress towards âThe Eventâ that the author hints is going to shake her world.
Which brings us to the structure. It is pretty well accepted that in average fiction, the inciting incident needs to happen in the first quarter of the book. Thatâs how the vast majority of trade novels are set up, and if you want to do something different, youâre taking your chances.
This book is about 400 pages long, and âThe Eventâ occurs on page 270. What does the rest consist of? Well, mostly explanation and description. The word âexplainâ is found on 133 pages, often used more than once.
The plot involves the main character spending her summer on a high-tech ecological research ship. This setting description takes up 50 pages, including a full script of the captainâs introduction of the officers, with half a page describing each one. And this section has no conflict. Except for a couple of âif Iâd only knownâ warnings, itâs all happiness and light.
No matter how interesting the characters are and how fascinating the science is, you canât waste that much of the book on description.
Once âThe Eventâ happens, (and itâs a doozy), the action picks up to an acceptable level. Now our long and intense relationship with the main character comes into play. Her worry is immediately our worry, and the sense of tension grows rapidly.
I donât know who to recommend this book to, because it contains some great writing, but not what the average Sci-Fi reader wants.