"When night comes and no one is watching, I feel afraid of everything: life, death, love or the lack of it; the fact that all novelties quickly become habits; the feeling that I'm wasting the best years of my life in a pattern that will be repeated over and over until I die; and sheer panic at facing the unknown, however exciting and adventurous that might be".

- Paulo Coelho, "Adultery".

6.20 pm, 11th of March, Saturday. 2541. The MHA.

She was intimidated by the same personage all over again. Yes. It was the respected Mr Maximilian Stoll.

"You were unconscious and then mildly functioning since this morning," He stated, a solemn unattached expression etched on his features, but the woman could see that he was judging her. "The fire did you ill. So ill you were unable to abide by the rules."

"Sorry? I believe there's been a misunderstanding. Perhaps these are some hallucinations in my mind. I've been overdosing on sleeping pills-"

"Have you forgotten what Mr Ignacio told you earlier?"

Her words stuck in her throat at the most unpleasant realization.

"No." She couldn't believe it. It seemed like pure fiction!

She had paid five hundred MindDivides (a thousand dollars) for that Mindphone.

She could sue him for destruction of property.

Most unsuccessfully.

"We need you in the auditorium. Now." Stoll ordered.

"The M-MHA auditorium?" Talissa asked, stuttering. She knew the MHA official-conference Auditorium to yield the most talented men of science and to hold the most eminent name for itself. Akin to the White House of Amerik. Her throat went dry.

"Yes. You must come."

"Why?" She insisted.

And by the disgruntled look on his face he didn't even try to hide, Talissa understood that she wasn't going to get an answer.

"Just for a heads up, we have a sample of your DNA, a difficult sample to retrieve. If you say one word out of place, or, viz. not do as we say, you understand what fate awaits you."

Upon hearing such an ultimatum, Talissa strongly urged to word a demurral. With astonishment in her dove blue eyes she scrutinized the "Greek God's" figure, but no apology or explanation came.

Just when his gaze caught hers, she understood that he had given her a silent confirmation.

Then she realized why.

Her status.

"You wouldn't do so," she whispered at him with seething anger.

The very next second Talissa felt something metal clasp over her wrists. Handcuffs? No, a bit more complex than them. For after the slightest motion of disobedience their owner could rip any track of DNA off the victim's body, leaving them a robot with no trace of soul, individuality or vigour. You couldn't move an inch if the little enumerators opened their miniature claws and seized, pinning, to the floor or wall no matter the material the surface was made of. They could pin you to fire, if so required, un-metaphorically.

And so they went, with Talissa fearing for her life and Stoll – well, the Stoll unassumingly escorting her, as if he hadn't just handcuffed and enslaved a random person with the most reprehensible weapon one could suffer because of in the 26th century – the ordnance of DNA.

***

"Hence the final element of the structure of the nano-particles would be the vibrating filaments, the strings by which everything thrives in this world, be it the quantum or the macro-world. Even though only the quantum string nature of matter has been extensively proved and accepted as fact, new discoveries from innovative minds prove the Universe, at the large-scale, may also be in total formed as a large vibrating string," a sour murmur in the crowd signalled slight displeasure associated with the word "mind" used in the formal lecture. It was a scientific report, presenting a scientific novelty in the ample and far-reaching world of astrophysics; in this case, the connection between the quantum and macro-worlds was the subject of discussion. Some ages ago this link was called the ideal "theory of everything", when infamous scholars such as Stephen Hawking, Albert Einstein and others, regardless of their personal opinions on the matter, pledged to the road of discovery, getting it closer to the ultimate theory.

Yet the future generations managed to carry it even further, reaching far into the depths of logic and wave functions to emerge with a confirmation of the basic components of any matter in the Universe. So string theory was proved, and after that, more and more insights led to the point of the macro-scale world being proved also. Hence dark energy particles called wimps were found, their form and structure akin to many vibrating strings with spin 2 and little mass, which because of their abundance in the Universe flew by to make small clusters, called dark matter, among visible galaxies and their clusters large enough. Everything was strings, everything was composed of some vibrating strings and lots of the conclusions drawn were used to explain other various science phenomena somewhat connected, and not connected at all. However, the meaning of the "theory of everything" was still unfound, and the search continued, despite the many years spent researching (ever since the dawn of human civilization), and the laborious deaths humankind had to subject their personal opinions, emotions and feelings to, in the sake of the strenuous road of discovery. Discovery still on, the search raged in an abundance of disputes within the aristocratic intellectuals, and their age was still on, despite the overall fall in grammatical literacy in the younger generations. The "theory of everything" still rested in darkness.

Such was the topic the newest Mendson organization talk was about, and Henry Bierman, chief inspector of the Mendson police station, was finding it hard to ponder aloud on the matter discussed. He found it quite strenuous, since, although he was one of them, the Mendson organization, his job, exactamente, didn't circle around finding an ultimate theory but rather finding a suspect of a murder taken place a day ago, a burden that was getting much heavier while the investigation delved deeper and sinister details were procured. If it wasn't for the fantastical pay of over ten thousand Mindvides per month, the ageing quadragenarian wouldn't be subjecting himself to as much power as to the point of having to comply with any demand the Mendson organization made. However, science and innovation appeared to channel the inner mind of a newly arriving patrial, hence the commotion of politicians and scientists had begun a few minutes prior to his "speech", aimed at intriguing the patrial. After a quick cough from the LowMind Lana Smith herself, he was to go ahead on a following part of the speech concerning the monumentality of those present. For the attendees of that meeting were quite some stately personages.

But there it was. A small wheeze, a little cough from the outskirts of the auditorium. It was preferred that the LowMind didn't shine during the meeting. The Mendsons didn't want that.

Yet the moment he opened his mouth, he was interrupted.

"I am here to start. But before we do so, let me introduce myself and the officials attending," Stoll said, striding down towards Bierman, and simply smiled at him. The poor man had nothing to do but to accept Stoll's not-so-stealthy request; and swiftly scurry out of the way. However, he wasn't able to escape due to his hand abruptly clasped in a handshake, ordering him to stay.

"First, meet Henry Bierman, chief inspector of the Mendson police station. "Then we have the one of the LowMinds," With a brisk nod from the Mendson leader, the forty-year-old man with greying hair finally left into the filled rows. Stoll continued.

"Then we have one of the LowMinds, politician Lana Smith, a former counsellor of the now-deceased Mind, Lenne Darren." A short thin woman with blonde hair wearing an elegant dress mouthed a silent "thank you" before sitting down. "Deputy Inspector Loughty of the Mendson police station." A frail old man stood up. "Now, to the scientists: Professor McGregory of the atomic center,..." The list went on and on. Many professors and scientists entered as Stoll announced their names and status. Even though it was professional, the enticement waned, after more and more guests relaxed following a successful introduction.

Talissa was at the back of the auditorium. It was a large one, with almost 50 chairs and radiant suits that emphasized a crowd of pencil-carrier hairs and Botox-glued smiles. She was hesitant. The novel professionalism of the place appealed to her; after all, this was what she had strived to join. A communion focusing on the theory of everything, Stoll had done everything he could to captivate her. However, she was too anxious and overwhelmed with her situation and family to think about anything else. She realized, namely, that she valued her and their security above anything else. And now, as the memories from that night slowly came to her at a drawling pace, she felt nonchalance towards every professor being announced but towards the green fire issue, which threatened her family. All except their security, she feared not; but to wane that anxiety, she had to stay on giving up her freedom, and learn more to devise a solution for the issue.

Yet those handcuffs roughly grazing her wrists at the back of the dimly lit auditorium started to irritate her, cutting off those thoughts she had about her family.

"And now," Stoll abruptly paused, swiftly scrutinizing the Botox smiles, his voice a fresh waterfall amidst an ocean. A short sneeze briefly sounded through the auditorium. "Now we will welcome Rikta Acharya, an Indidesh astronaut who works at the Leviathan Mendson Space Organization. The pressing issue, that we know of, must wait no longer." He caught Talissa's eye. Crowds murmured.

She couldn't withhold her surprise any longer.