Blurb:In the year 2642, no one person is ethnically like the other. Globalization, war, and other catalysts have given birth to a diverse and multi-ethnic new world.Not everyone feels this new society is ideal, though. A select group of seven colonies—a pureblood, white supremacist cult complete with arranged marriages and heavily guarded borders—have only had one mission: protect the bloodline from contamination and produce the next generation of survivors. But some young people, destined for a life without choices, make a run for it, including Cara, the granddaughter of Julius Bull, the colonies' leader.Desperate to keep her dissidence quiet for fear of potentially inciting a power struggle within the colonies, Bull brings in Jimmy Matoo—a Special Investigator from San Francisco whose brother was found dead near one of the colonies the same night Cara disappeared. For Matoo, the visit to Corinth, Oregon, is eye-opening. He has never seen a white person before and is shocked by their ideas of imperialism, racial purity, and the prospect of arranged marriages in the 27th century. His investigation reveals that dozens of young colony members have gone missing over the years, and some have been found dead on the outskirts of Corinth.With the clock ticking, San Francisco’s Detective Matoo’s missing persons investigation soon becomes a fight for survival—turns out the residents don’t like a brown fellow in their midst. Can he find Cara, figure out what happened to his brother, and save the leader's family from the Cabal before it’s too late? Maybe. But first, he must find out who in the colony has the means and connections to smuggle the dissidents out without being detected because it could be the difference between life and death.
“Tell me about this colony.”
Bull gazed out the window—it was another overcast San Francisco day. Shadows as dark as the fog rolling through the city crisscrossed over his pale face. “All right, yes,” he said reluctantly. “What I am about to tell you, Mr. Matoo, is strictly confdential. There are few people in your government, and fewer outside it, who know of our existence. Our privacy is what keeps us alive. You understand?”
I shook my head. “No, I can’t say that I do.”
Bull looked at me with impatience. “Listen to me: the only people in Corinth who know about this letter, about me being here, are my fesh and blood. I can’t trust anybody else. If they found out...”
The old man shuddered. “The colonies are our home. There are seven in total, spread across the country, and I am their leader. Cara and her siblings were raised in Corinth, Oregon. It is a place where we are free to be”—Bull hesitated—“us.” He shifted, obviously uncomfortable. “You see, a long time ago, when multiethnicity was becoming the norm all over the world, my ancestors knew they needed to safeguard future generations from...”
“Becoming like me?” I could barely hide the disdain in my voice.
Bull looked at me defantly. “Yes. Yes, from becoming like you. And I make no apologies for it.” Bull carefully and deliberately studied my face. His bony features accentuated what could only be described as revulsion. “A long time ago, before you were even a thought, we decided that for our people to fourish and stay true to our roots, we needed to build a home far away from the temptations of this world.” Bull leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and clenching his palms tightly. “We’ve had to make a lot of sacrifces to build our colonies over the years, but I believe that in the end, we will prevail. We have to.”
“So, when you say, ‘away from the temptations of your world’...” My voice trailed off.
“My people live a quiet life, Mr. Matoo.” Bull’s voice was sharp and crisp. “They are kept safe, cared for, and given every comfort in the world. They have no need for anything outside our walls.”
The words sank in slowly and painfully. So the rumors were true after all. Bull and his people were the isolationists I’d heard about. They wanted a racially pure world. The way it was centuries ago when people identifed themselves by their race and isolated themselves from new cultures and experiences.
Looking at Bull, I couldn’t help but wonder why he would ever want to live in a world where somebody else was treated as a minority. Surely, he must know how hard and unfair life could be now that he was on the other side of the fence.
The word minority rolled uncomfortably around in my head. The concept was so alien these days when most people could trace their family tree—starting with their grandparents— back to at least four different countries. I couldn’t explain how diverse my own family was if I tried.
My dreaded high school history lessons came back in a fash. When globalization was at its peak in the twenty-frst century, racial diversity was on the rise across the world. Just before the war broke out, the population of the Earth was divided into neat little clusters. The Caucasians made up for
only twenty percent of the global population. That means that there were about the same number of Chinese people as there were white people in the world. But toward the end of the century, India surpassed China to become the most populous nation in the world—meaning Indians, or those of Indian origin, accounted for thirty percent of the population while the Africans took third place with twenty-fve percent.
I always had a hard time remembering those numbers, but the next part was the easy bit. Everyone knew that part. After the Millennial War ended, taking millions upon millions of lives with it, there was a massive baby boom—which was normal after any major confict. But this time, those little babies set the stage for this brave new world Bull and I were living in.
By the time my great-grandparents were born, the metamorphosis of the human race was complete. People no longer identifed themselves by ethnicity. We were no longer Black, White, Asian, Hispanic, or biracial. We had become a beautiful multiracial generation. A generation that came to be known as One World.
Bull’s hawkish eyes bore into my skull. I finched. “So you’re a modern-day fascist.”
Bull stood up abruptly. “How dare you!” he screamed. It was not hard to see the person he had been in his youth— someone full of strength and energy, always ready for a fght. “We are survivors against this disease you call One World!”
That was the frst time I’ve ever heard anyone call us— me—a disease before. I would be lying if I said it didn’t sting a little. But I didn’t react to Bull’s jab. Instead, I just stared at him without blinking. That always made people uncomfortable, and I could see that it was working with him as well.
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