Chapter Seven: “We All Have That Dream.”

The train had been moving for two days. The train would travel the entire route in just over a week at full speed, but the tracks hadn't been used in over a year, and the world had ended since then, so they were moving a good bit slower than top speed. Rachel was in no hurry. She'd spent most of the trip in her sleeper car. It was the first time in a year that she'd had a private room. As tight as she was with her brothers and sisters, Rachel wasn't the most outgoing of people. Her family and close friends were few, and most of them were gone. She enjoyed having her own room again.

She'd spent the ride making notes. She had questions about the world now, and the more of them she wrote down, the more questions she thought of. For someone who had dedicated their adult life to finding the answers, it was both jarring, and oddly exciting. She wasn't sure if she was energized, or completely out of her element, but it was definitely more one than the other.

The train stopped once or twice a day, and took on more passengers each time. The train was filling up, and Rachel knew her time of privacy was coming to an end. She was used to working all-nighters, and eating at all hours. There were few people gathered in the Dinner Car when hunger drove her to take her notebooks and find something to eat.

The train had a small staff to provide services to the passengers. There wasn't a lot of food left out overnight, but it was enough for her to grab a snack, given that she never looked up from her notes.

"Try the fruit medley." A voice called. "It held up better than the egg salad."

Rachel glanced and noticed for the first time that she wasn't alone. The other side of the car held an older man with dark features, and his own stack of notebooks in front of him. Rachel gestured at them. "You're missing your laptop too?"

He chuckled. "Still have it. Just haven't figured out how to charge it yet. Can't find a power converter to save my life, and the solar panels that I've seen and installed are too high voltage."

Rachel smirked. "Oh, there's ways around that. If you can find the tools."

The man gestured at the food table. "No coffee, I'm afraid."

Rachel let out a whine. "I haven't seen coffee in almost two months. We went through the stores we found a little too fast." She took her plate over to a nearby table. "But what kind of paradise can it be without caffeine?"

"Well, can't speak for everyone, but I don't feel tired nearly as early as I used to." He gestured out the window at the darkness. "Still keep terrible hours, though."

Rachel smirked tightly. "Me too. So much to do, and every bit of it a priority."

"And only eternity to do it in." He reminded her. "Wonder what my old boss would have thought about my time management options now?" The man reached across two tables and held out a hand. "Kevin Bagley."

"Rachel Bridger." Rachel was about to shake his hand and pulled it back swiftly. "Kevin Bagley. As in Professor Bagley? University of Oxford?"

"Dear me, I had no idea I was famous." Kevin chuckled. "But yes, that's me."

"I had no idea you were a brother! Your Fractal Theory Models were... inspired. I used them in my Climate Simulations. And I was there when you gave that TED talk at Cal-Tech, about changing our thinking in Academia! It was right before I left for the UK-"

"Rachel Bridger!" Bagley exclaimed. "Oh, I thought that name sounded familiar."

She gulped, eyes boggling. "You know me too?"

"Oh yes, the head of your research team at Cambridge got in touch with me about your Ecology Models. He didn't like the answer he was getting and insisted that one of you must have screwed up the algorithm."

"Did we?" She couldn't help but ask.

"I have no idea, I didn't check the math. I wasn't cleared for it any more."

"Why? You created it!"

"Well, I was a professor, back before. When things started to change, a JW just couldn't work any more. Not in any professional capacity. Money got tight, and I became a... well, a janitor."

"Oxford Professor to janitor in one step."

"They told me if I signed the Renouncement, I could have tenure back." Bagley explained. "I said I couldn't do that, and they busted me down to Teaching Assistant. But none of the teachers would take me... I was living on Campus Housing, my Pension and severance were frozen, since I was identified as 'one of those'."

"Oh, doesn't that take me back." Rachel scoffed. She'd heard all the names herself, and more than once.

"I honestly think they were expecting it to blow over, or for me to wise up." Bagley nodded. "They told me I could keep my room on campus if I had some job with them, but the only one they'd offer me was night janitor. I think they believed that they could humiliate me into signing my beliefs away. It worked for me, because I was able to slip those Final Judgement tracts into the student's lockers, the faculty lounge... My ministry continued longer than the taunting did. My former students took a certain delight in spilling the most disgusting things they could think of right in front of me every few minutes..."

"Did you ever think about quitting?"

"Only constantly, but..." He shook his head. "Our brothers were feeling the edge everywhere."

Rachel nodded. "Yeah, well... I was dropped from Head Researcher to Intern once my Department was shut down."

"Politics." Bagley nodded. "The same everywhere." He looked out the window. "Ever see it this dark? I know for a fact we would normally be seeing the city lights over past that ridge by now. I can't even see the ridge."

Rachel looked out the window. "Yeah... actually, now that I think of it..." She smiled a bit. "I don't think I've ever seen the stars so bright."

They both watched the sky for a while.

"Now if only we had coffee." Rachel sighed theatrically.

~~/*\~~

Beckah had her own room for the first time too. She wedged the door shut as an impromptu lock, and then turned to the mirror; shedding all her clothes. it had been the first time she had taken a proper look at herself.

The accident that took the use of her legs had left her with more than a few scars. The surgical marks had crisscrossed her lower torso and back; there had been some burns on her stomach that had never really faded.

The scars were gone. Her skin was pink and healthy and fresh. The atrophied muscles had all become healthy and strong. Her legs had been skeletal sticks a year before, hanging uselessly, and she was now quite attractive. She'd worn reading glasses more and more often as time went on, and now she didn't need them. Alone in her wheelchair friendly apartment, she'd focused more on convenience than independence, so her diet had been mostly takeout and processed foods. Her new diet, direct from the kitchens of heaven had left her slimmer around the middle; and planting trees and helping construction had given her muscle some definition.

She had always expected to walk again, but looking closer and seeing her hair become shinier, and her teeth growing straighter… Even the minor blemishes on her skin were starting to fade.

"This is me, now." She said quietly to herself.

Despite herself, she blinked back some tears. Father in Heaven, she prayed. Is this what you always saw when you looked at me? Did you see someone beautiful?

~~/*\~~

Rachel woke up with a start. The dream again. Same one three nights running.

She was still in the Dining Car, having apparently dozed off in her seat. The sky outside was starting to lighten. She wasn't the only one there. In fact, a lot of the faces that were heading to The Conference were there, reading to themselves, some of them praying.

Kevin Bagley was one of them. "You're still here?" She asked him.

Bagley looked up from his notebooks and smiled. "We all have that dream."

Rachel froze. "What dream?"

Bagley turned his notebook back a dozen pages and pushed it over to her. Two words were written there. 'New Jerusalem'.

Rachel frowned. "What does it mean?"

"To you, probably not much." Bagley chuckled. "I remember the first time I read that passage in Revelation. A city made of precious stones, pearly gates... I have never lived in a 'beautiful' city. And making one of gold and silver is a pointless exercise. Woefully inappropriate as building material. But I always like the idea of a beautiful, clean, glorious city. And since being invited to The Conference, I see it so clearly. A beautiful city, full of people. Artists, thinkers, philosophers, prophets, architects... People who create things. Create anything. Everything."

"Camelot." Rachel said. "That was our dream too." She glanced back at his notebook. "Think that's what The Conference is all about?"

"I hope so. Maybe a very small part of it." Bagley smiled, and took his notebook back, flipping back to the page he had been working on. "A thousand years is a long time. Time enough to change the world."

"So, what are you working on now?" Rachel asked. The question slipped out so naturally she almost didn't notice. She had never been one for small talk, but this man was so easy to talk to...

"I'm putting a timeline together of the education system. If a person was educated in the 80's, they learned something entirely different to what they would learn in the 50's. Sooner or later, those people will be back, and they'll all need a refresher course. Plus, we're still learning things about the world. If someone like us goes back to school for a refresher course a hundred years from now..."

Rachel scoffed. "One of my late professors? I hope to be there when he gets the 'welcome back' speech. The sheer... delight that he took in calling people who believed in God morons? Even before I became one, I didn't like the way he sneered at people who thought differently to his textbooks. He'll try to crawl back into his grave before he admits he was wrong."

"I knew more than a few academics like that. Diehard atheists who clung to their ideology harder than believers ever did." Bagley admitted. "If they couldn't find the answer in their textbooks they'd assume the question was a waste of time; and they'd tear strips out of any student who didn't take 'because I said so' as a reason."

Rachel waved a hand back and forth. "There have been maybe three generations in human history where a woman could excel academically, be respected for the work, and have a huge repository of technology and information to fall back on. I considered myself lucky to be part of that time."

~~/*\~~

The Conference was being held in a large hotel. The name of it was gone from the front of the building, but it was close to a large train station. There was a town, but like every other one Rachel had seen, it was empty. But the area between the Train Station and the Hotel was crowded with people. And all of them were smiling.

Rachel stepped down from the train into a sea of people who were eager to hug her tightly. It was like one of the videos she had seen on the Website about greeting delegates for an International Convention. In a few seconds, she had been handed a gift basket, knickknacks, maps of the area, fresh fruit, and homemade baked goods.

It was overwhelming. Rachel handled it by pushing through the first row of welcomers, and letting the people behind her get the attention.

"Sister Bridger?"

Rachel turned and found a boy, about twelve years old. His nametag read ‘Robin'. "I am. I'm sorry, have we met?"

Robin smiled real big and shook his head. "Nuh-uh; but I'm s'posed to take you to your room, and the Meeting. My daddy's list says you're on the Engineer's floor."

Rachel smiled back. "Okay. What about my lugg-" The boy had already grabbed her hand and started pulling her away from the station. "Or yeah, just lead the way now."

~~/*\~~

The Hotel was crowded with people, sorted by task. Rachel scanned some of the maps and directories as the boy pulled her along by the hand. According to the fire escape plans, the building was almost twenty floors of rooms, and about two-thirds of them were occupied so far. But the lower levels included almost a dozen conference rooms. Rachel recognized the hotel as the sort of place that would host meetings for whatever business or government department would need to call people together.

Today, it's a Convention Hall. She thought, as Robin pulled her to the elevators. "Kid, you happen to know where the power comes from?"

"My dad rigged up solar panels." The boy said proudly. "You work for him, I think."

"Do I?" Rachel almost laughed. It had been over a year since losing her last job.

"Uh-huh." The boy gave himself a wind-up and leaped as high as he could to reach one of the buttons, and the doors closed. "You have Room 198. The porters take your bags to the Hotel, and if it's got the tag, they bring it to your room."

That's why they tagged my luggage when I boarded. Rachel thought. With the huge ‘Welcoming Party' at the station, there was no way to get luggage out of there too. They had this organized three different ways since before I got the Invitation. Why didn't we do it that way back in the Old Days?

The reason came to her an instant later. Because back in the Old Days, that would have made it way too easy to steal bags. Not an issue any more. "Well, Robin. Since my bags will be delivered, how about you take me straight to your dad?"

~~/*\~~

Robin's father introduced himself as Beck. "Welcome to The Conference, Sist- Excuse me, Doctor Bridger." He smiled at her. "If your invitation was as ‘thorough' as mine, I'm guessing you have questions."

"They seem to be a big part of my life just now." Rachel said dryly.

Beck waved Rachel into a chair. "Well, Doctor Bridger. Let me open with this: In the Ancient world, people always traveled on the left hand side of the road. Do you know why?"

"Because most people are right handed, and for most of history, the only weapons available were swords or clubs." Rachel nodded. "You travel on the left to keep your sword arm ready for anyone coming the other way."

"Correct." Beck nodded. "When America first started laying roads, they had wagons and guns. So they drove on the right hand side of the road, since the Wagon Driver needed to be protected by the guy who ‘rode shotgun', and he covered the street. The tradition of older continents continued on the left side of the road, America began on the right, because times had changed." He paused to make sure she was following. "Who decided to keep that tradition alive internationally, when inventing things like cars? Who decided that red lights mean stop, and green lights mean go? Who decided that wearing a head-covering was a way to show loyalty or submission?" He smiled at her expression, enjoying himself. "Who decided that staying Kosher was important the day before Christ, and was unimportant the day after?"

"Well, some of those things were the Apostles, some of them were God, and some of them, who knows? Market trends? Practicality?"

"Right." Beck nodded. "Some things have to be decided, some things evolve on their own. Now try this: When they were translating the Bible into Japanese, they had to decide when they got to the verse about ‘receiving their daily bread'. To us, that's fine, because Bread is a staple. But in Japan, it's not. Rice is a staple. So do they translate that verse to read ‘daily rice'? It would do a better job of getting the point across, but would sacrifice accuracy. Who decides things like that?"

"There was a Translation Committee." Rachel nodded.

Beck nodded. "The Conference is our Committee. Our job is to decide these things, get them started. It's going to be an outrageous job."

"We're the ones that decide if a red light still means stop..." Rachel thought out loud. She was silent for a moment before she let out a bark of really hard laughter. It lasted three seconds before she clapped a hand over her mouth. "I've been called a great many, many things in my career, Beck. A few more things since I became a JW. ‘Trendsetter' has never been one of them."

Beck laughed. "Someone has to do it."

"Why? These things will sort themselves out, surely…"

"Some of them, but a lot of it will require discussion. For example, Tribulation wiped out a lot of the influence of False Religion. The Day wiped out a bit more. But there's still an awful lot of their fingerprints out there."

"For example?"

"Well, I have here a report from Brother Murr, recently joined us from the Far East." Beck pulled out a piece of paper. "He mentions that The Day also wiped out the Pyramids."

"Really?" That surprised Rachel. "Huh. Now that I think of it, that makes sense. The Pyramids were Tombs for Pharaohs, to commemorate them as Gods."

"Ancient, forgotten gods; but Jehovah was there when his people were spat on in the name of Ra. To us, the Pyramids were tourist destinations. But they were temples, in their way. So if the Angels took it that far, what about the Solar System?" Beck challenged. "The only planet in our System that isn't named after a God? It's Earth. And that's because Earth is the only planet named by God, and not by men. So, if we're to eliminate all Pagan traces-"

"-especially if the Pagan followers are going to be Returned to us one day, looking to pick up where they left off." Rachel put in.

"Exactly. So do we have to rename all the planets in the Solar System?"

"I don't know." Rachel admitted.

"Now bring it a little closer to the Modern Era. The Julian Calendar was put in place by Julius Caesar. Does it strike you as odd that October is the tenth month, and not the Eighth? Well it was, but then Julius Caesar added two more months. July and August. Named them after himself and his cousin. Took a few days off the months named for gods and lords who had offended him."

Rachel scoffed. "Wow."

"January, named for the Roman god, Janus. June, for Juno. February, for Februus. March, for Mars. Then the Julian Calendar was replaced with the modern Gregorian Calendar, which was put into place by Pope Gregory XIII, in the year of our Lord 1582."

Rachel let out a breath. "So if we're scrubbing away all that ‘influence', do we go back to the Hebrew calendar?"

"Or do we agree that common sense can make allowances for convenience? Or will it actually turn out to be inconvenient, given that we're expecting billions of people who lived before 1582? Because I'll tell you this, someone has to make a decision." Beck smiled widely. "Now think forward. Scripture promised that we would all have our own homes. Even build them. So does that mean we won't ever have landlords again? When we build, are we limited to mud-thatch huts, or can we still have broadband connected, three story homes with two car garages? Will we have cars, or go back to horses?"

Rachel bit her lip. "Why am I here, Beck? I don't have the answers to all these questions."

"Not yet. But you do have questions." Beck tapped at Rachel's omnipresent notepad. "You'll meet a lot of people with questions. People like you will know how to answer some of them. We're getting people of all disciplines, all backgrounds. One way or another, we'll get a framework together. You're right. A lot of it will happen organically, just having the people around. But some of it won't."

Rachel bit her lip. "You called me ‘Doctor' when I first sat down. I take it you have my credentials."

"No, I only had your name." Beck shook his head. "But if you're here for the Engineering and Technology section, it stands to reason you have either a Master's Degree or a Doctorate."

"I have both." Rachel said in a small voice.

Beck grinned. "So do I, so does my wife. Go grab some sleep, and some lunch. We're still expecting another few hundred people to filter in. Another week, we'll get started officially; but the work has already begun, just by having the right people in a room. Most of them have always been eager to share ideas. Go settle in, then get back here, and I'll introduce you to the rest of the team."

Rachel rose, blown away. "It's going to be quite a job." She said quietly. "I'm glad we'll have a thousand years. It'll take me that long just to sort out everyone's names."

"Ohh, you'd think so, wouldn't you?" Beck grinned, like he knew something she didn't. "Welcome to The Conference, Doctor Bridger."

Rachel stood and shook his hand. "Glad to be here." She turned to go. "Oh, um… You've got delegates coming in from all over the world. What about translation?"

Beck laughed, like that was a great joke. "See you soon."

~~/*\~~

Rachel came off the elevator and noticed a familiar face. "Kevin. You met our host yet?"

"One of them." Bagley nodded. "Word is there are several areas of ‘expertise' at work here." He gestured. "The rooms are nice. I've never gone anywhere hosted by the Witnesses that wasn't tidied up and made ready before getting started."

Rachel went to her door, and paused. "Hey, KB?" Rachel asked quietly. "Can I ask you something?"

"Does anyone ever say no to that question?"

"Do you find it… easier to think?"

Kevin let out a breath. "Ohh, I thought it was just me."

"Beck made the comment that it'd be easier to remember names than I think." Rachel shrugged. "I'm a smart girl, KB; but I have a blind spot where names and faces are concerned. It makes me seem incredibly rude, but I just have no talent for names… Except that I can remember everyone I've met since The Day. In fact, I can remember people before that a lot more easily too."

Kevin nodded. "I'm getting the same thing. In my Congregation back home, there was a kid with Down Syndrome. Can you imagine…"

"I really can't." She said softly. "Y'know, I tried to picture this world, Back Before. I just… couldn't see it. It was just too far outside anything I had experienced. You know how clever I am, and I couldn't really see myself in this world." She shook her head. "It's terrifying, and it's impossible, and it's… wonderful."

"It is." Kevin admitted, soft and sentimental.

She went into her room and closed the door. She leaned her forehead against the wood and shut her eyes. "So why can't I just be... happy?" She asked weakly. "God? I know you don't make mistakes. So what am I doing wrong? Why am I not happy to be here?"

~~/*\~~

The Speech came a week later. Enough of the Conference Attendees had arrived to make an official start.

Not that it had been holding anyone back. Rachel had met a lot of people like her, and she had to admit that she had forgotten what it was like to be among academic contemporaries. A lifetime ago, she had told Amelia that more than a few scientists had become believers in a Creator, if not a follower of any religion, based on their studies. Meeting some of those people was an experience she wished she'd had years before.

Work was already starting. Rachel hadn't been thinking so clearly in years, jumping from A to Z faster than she ever had before. It was a feeling that several others could apparently relate to.

"It's like there's a box opening in my head." One man told her with wonder. "I can feel ideas coming so much faster than they ever have before. Ideas that I was toying with just make so much sense now!"

Rachel wondered about that a bit, until the Keynote Speech spelled it out for her. There was a general meeting held in the Main Hall. A brother named Benedict was speaking, though Rachel's attention was half on the audience too. It was standing room only.

"By now, you've had some time to get to know each other, and you've no doubt realized that the people here are in certain disparate fields. Almost all the helpers to the Governing Body are here, as well as several members of the Writing Committee. They are here to consider the next step. The rest of you have various Engineering and Academic qualifications."

Rachel was an Academic and an Engineer. Part of her wondered which group she was part of.

"The name ‘Jehovah' means: He Causes To Become. In line with that name, he causes his creation to become whatever he chooses. In line with the meaning of his name, God caused Noah to be an ark builder, Bezalel to be a master craftsman, Gideon to be a victorious warrior, and Paul to be an apostle to the nations."

(Author's Note: The above is a direct quotation from a 2015 Watchtower. While it doesn't specify if God blessed those projects, or their architects by direct supernatural means, but for purposes of this story, it seemed appropriate.)

"I know we've all enjoyed the time of Miracles, but it's time we got busy."

Rachel smiled a bit at that.

"When The System ended, people asked me how on earth we were going to survive, since all the things there to keep the human race clothed and fed were suddenly gone. But this is not a new state. When the slaves walked out of Egypt; they had no infrastructure of their own. Who would have expected to have food fall out of the sky at regular intervals for years at a stretch?"

A laugh went around the room.

"But I think we all know that won't be a permanent state. And while I look forward to seeing what else God will provide, direct from his own hand to us; we haven't been told to sit still and do nothing. Not once, in six thousand years."

The tone of the room was anticipation. The call to increase the work had been sounding louder and louder, right up until The Day. They'd all had months of relative inactivity afterward.

"Now, something important to know." The Chairman told them, loud enough to be heard over the Din. "We've organized an International Convention for the first Anniversary of The Day. We plan to announce as many initiatives as we can for the future. The Convention will be to explain what happened, how we got through it, what has happened that perhaps we cannot see, and most importantly, what happens next. Everyone here is vital to putting that message together. Construction, education, clean-up, innovation, infrastructure, and most importantly, spiritual provision. So get your teams together, work fast, work well."

There was another roar of approval. Benedict started to dismiss them, and paused, giving them one final thought. "And by the way, this Conference will define what the human race does for the next five hundred years at least. So every now and then, take a moment to look around at these faces. The dreamers, the geniuses, the believers, the wild cards and the reasonable all have their greatest examples putting their heads together in this place. We're warned about pridefulness, but it's not vanity to say that if there was anyone in the world better suited to the job than us, they'd be here too. Don't ever lose sight of what this place is. 144,000 Princes now rule over the earth. It is now our duty to carry out that direction, and tell the world what it is, and how they can carry it out too."

Rachel looked around; saw everyone applauding wildly, faces bright and eager. Their faces blurred and she realized she was crying. She wasn't the only one, but it took her a long moment to notice she wasn't applauding.

She noticed a few teams were already breaking into groups and getting to work. She took the opportunity to slip out of her seat and make her way out of the meeting.

She didn't let herself think too strongly about any of it, but she was quickly packing her bag once she got back to her room. There was a light knock at the door. She barely registered it. There was a second knock, louder, and she shook off the vagueness enough to call whoever it was to come in.

It was Bagley. "I noticed that you were the only one who didn't seem thrilled to be here. It was the exact opposite reaction of everyone else who got their name on an invite." When she didn't answer, he wandered further into the room and noticed her bag. "Going somewhere?"

"I'm going home." Rachel said quietly. "I was wrong. I don't belong here."

"You saying the invitation went to the wrong Rachel Bridger? Was there another in your congregation?" Bagley said with a wan smile. "Don't get me wrong, that can happen. I know a guy named Peter Chalcot the fourth. Four of them, and he made it through, which means at least three other people with his name are going to be here eventually. I dread to think how complicated that household will be."

Rachel closed her bag, and zipped it up. "Don't make fun, Professor. I know where the invitation came from, and it may be a little more dangerous to say this out loud now, but he got the wrong girl."

She headed for the door. He got there first and closed it. "A few days ago, you believed that I was someone whose opinion should be respected. For that, you can talk to me now." He said firmly.

Rachel looked a little sick. "Finding the Truth, defending it in a debate, sticking up for it when the whole world tells you you're wrong... That's the kind of belief that I've been preparing for my whole life. I was ready for that... One week in this world, and the rules all changed. There's no debate any further, there's no... I can't figure out how my clothes seem new every day. The food appearing, the wheelchairs being left behind." Rachel rubbed her eyes. "I don't know the rules any more. My whole life I've been trying to figure out how and why the universe works, and now the universe just does, often in direct opposition to the facts of reality." She waved a hand vaguely. "I don't know how to say it."

"Try. The words come when you grasp the subject."

"I don't know what's going on anymore, KB." She confessed. "They're telling us to rebuild, and figure out how, but there's no point. Maybe not to anything we do any more."

"Explain that."

"My parents were Seventh Day Adventist." Rachel began her story. "They were 'young earth' creationists. They took the first part of Genesis literally, and were convinced that the earth, possibly the cosmos was less than seven thousand years old. Anyone with a telescope and a watch can challenge that number, but for them, God was a magic wand. If we don't agree, it's because we are small and God is big, and we could never hope to comprehend."

"Which is true enough." He nodded. "But there's plenty of incomprehensible in God without taking the easy way out."

"Yeah, but is there any point to taking the hard way?" Rachel demanded. "Do we need to build infrastructure? Won't God just keep providing food? Do we need power sources? The fuel in the car we took here? It barely moved the needle, which is odd, given how long we were driving..."

"There's precedent." Bagley offered. "At least, scripturally. Resources like food and oil and loaves and fishes lasting a lot longer than they should have."

"If clothing never wears out, the food never spoils and the fuel never runs dry, then what's the point of even trying to rebuild? What could we possibly do that compares?"

He suddenly smiled. "Ah. There it is. The Academic who can't figure out God, and decides to reject the whole field of study instead."

Rachel froze. "Oh man. I didn't even notice."

He chuckled. "Rachel, we didn't make it here by relying on our own ability, or our own knowledge. To use your 'young earth' example, God could have made the earth flat. He could have made the universe nothing but our world, and a light that switched on and off overhead every twelve hours. He gave us the cosmos instead. He created a universe where rules exist, and where order exists. He created a universe where gravity and motion, where energy and matter, where air and water and plants and animals and a billion things in between all work together in harmony. Right now, we're in a time of miracles, but I can't believe all that 'order' will be thrown away." He gave her a sideways look. "And here's the thing, Rach. I'm pretty sure you agree. So what's really bothering you?"

Rachel said nothing for a few moments, and set her bag down. "You're an academic. You're also a Witness. You know what it's like; being told you're crazy because the people listening don't want to think about what you're saying. You know what it's like, being dismissed by the people you want to respect you, because you have a different idea."

"I do." He confirmed. "Even before becoming a Witness."

"For me, that... exile, started with my own parents. They didn't understand half the books I was bringing home and told me to stop wasting my time on things nobody cared about. In my whole life, I only ever felt completely accepted in two places. The Congregation was one, and my team at Cambridge was the other. And as much as I loved the Congregation..."

"They didn't follow your intellectual interests. At least, not at your level." He said, understanding. "It's not insulting to say you were smarter than them."

"They never made me feel bad or unwelcome about it, but they stopped asking about my work once they realized I could go on for an hour without them understanding a word I was saying... When I started studying with the Witnesses, I spoke to my friends about it. Albie, Frank, Miri... They had all different religious backgrounds. They all told me that they left their churches for the same reason: At some point, you're told to stop asking questions and make a leap of faith. I can't imagine Amelia or Max or the Elders telling me to stop asking. The more I learned about the Truth, the more sense it made. Other religions, the more questions I asked, the more holes I found."

Bagley nodded. "That's the whole point, isn't it? When something is true, it makes more sense, no matter how deep you look."

She pointed. "On the other side of that door is a place where all the smartest people in the world can come together and make the world a far better place, full of new thinking, innovation... I don't know if the whole world is going to be Camelot or New Jerusalem, or Disneyworld, but I do know that for the first time, we don't have to censor ourselves over money, or politics, or office rivalries or simple prejudice. We don't even have to worry that people in charge won't listen to us because the facts are inconvenient or the plans are too long-term." She shook her head. "This was the dream. This was our dream. Even before I knew God's Name, this Conference was my view on Paradise. This Conference is what we longed for our whole lives!"

"'Our Dream'." Bagley quoted her. "'What we longed for'." He looked at her sideways. "You aren't talking about you and me, or even the people who are here."

Rachel was silent a long time, and started to cry. "I tried to tell my friends what I was learning from the Bible, how much sense it made... none of them wanted to hear it. Not even Jacques." Rachel sniffed. "And now none of them are here."

"That's not your fault, Rachel."

"I know. But... Albie, Frank, Miri..." Rachel looked down. "Man, they would have loved this! We all went around the room for hours, days... Every night, the five of us, not caring what the others were raised to believe, not caring that Albie was gay, or that Miri was black... The four of us in a loftspace that four students together could barely afford, passing around a few smokes, or the cheapest booze we could find, sometimes going all the way till morning, sketching out new inventions and ideas on notepads... More things were invented in the dorm rooms of Harvard and MIT than in any Research Lab. The first time in our lives where all four of us weren't smacked down for being smarter than our teachers or our classmates... We were brainstorming the future." She rubbed her eyes. "We had the ideas that could have fixed the world, and the world hated us for suggesting them. Other kids had fairy tales about Wonderland and Narnia... For us, the fairytale was a place exactly like this." She looked up at him. "And now I'm here. And they aren't." She wiped her eyes furiously, shaking her head. "They should be here for this. All of us should be together for this. They should see this, KB."

"Do you think, if they were here, and you were not, they'd say the same about you?" He asked her.

Rachel nodded.

"And why do you think that is? Why would your friends believe this would be a good place for you?"

Rachel shook her head. "That's not the point. How can I enjoy this if every step of it is just a reminder that they missed out?"

"Because it's not 'just' anything." He told her firmly. "Yes, this place is what some people in the old days wanted. But that's true of everyone we lost, Rach." He made her look him in the eye. "Seriously. How many people back then wanted desperately for a place where their kids wouldn't be sick, or their parents would never grow old? A place where money wasn't the only factor in anything, and where fairness was the rule instead of a handicap? I'm not kidding, Rachel: How many people would have loved to be here?"

Rachel let out a breath. "All of them."

"You aren't the only one struggling with survivor's guilt, kid." He told her. "I lost two out of three kids, and three grandchildren. One younger sibling that tried to get me arrested for the reward money when she realized I was suddenly broke, and all that was after losing my wife to a brain tumor. When she comes back I have to tell her all about the world she's in, and then tell her that most of our family is-"

She held her hands up. "I know. A lot of people in my Cong can say the same." Rachel admitted. "It's going to be hard."

"Yes, it is." He told her, not unkindly. "Rachel, you mentioned that you were late to the show. But it doesn't matter how long you were a Believer. You're here. You made it. And the reason you made it is the same reason everyone else in the world made it. We didn't do it by being smart, or being successful. We were all homesick for a world we hadn't seen yet. You grew up in a place that didn't appreciate something they didn't understand, even when it was something to admire. We can all say the same."

"I guess that's true."

"And not only are you in this world, you're in this Conference." He went on. "The new Camelot itself. And if there are a hundred of us or a million, we're all here for the same reason. Because this was our dream too."

Rachel had no answer to that.

"I'm sorry you lost your friends, but the reason they meant so much to you is because they were the only peer group you ever had that didn't judge you for being smart, or being female, or for having ideas the world wasn't ready to accept." He held out a hand and gestured at the door. "In your entire life, you only ever had three people like that. Outside that door you have hundreds. Give them a chance, and don't punish them for being new in your life. You were invited, Rachel. Given who invited you, I think we can safely assume this is where you're meant to be."

Rachel bit her lip. "I guess so." She rubbed her eyes. "I was never particularly good at making friends. I haven't seen new faces in months. It's literally the first day of school, and not only am I one of the new kids in class, I'm told that I have to write the lessons too."

He laughed. "But not alone. And if it takes you a thousand years to have another best friend... That's still a drop in the bucket to how long that friendship will last."

"Maybe not that long." Rachel almost smiled as she gazed up at him. "I suppose that's true. And if it takes me a thousand years to get past... what has passed... There's still an eternity of happiness afterward, isn't there?"

"A year ago, we needed to hold onto our faith that the promises would come true, no matter how many people told us we were mad. Now... now we need to hold on to a different kind of faith. Faith that what happened was The Right Thing. A thousand years from now, we'll have Exhibit B. Six thousand years with God not running things, versus one thousand years where he is. Keep that faith long enough to look around, and realize how lucky we are to be here for this, right from the start."

"Keep the faith. Help with Exhibit B. Yeah... That was the dream, wasn't it?" Rachel let out a sigh, picked up her bag, and tossed it back on her bed. "Okay... Let's get to it then."