Chapter 1

In the afterlife, you might be headed for the serious strife

When: Day 1

Where: A field of endless green

I was dead.

I was dead, and there was no way around it.

I was dead, said the nice man in the nice suit sitting behind the nice desk in his nice office. As dead as… Some dead thing back in the living world. "I mean everything old is new again, isn't it? Hard to know what's dead and what's not anymore. Take, oh I don't know, vinyl. Probably thought you would never be seeing that stuff again, right?" I think he was looking for a laugh, but I was fixated on those three words. "You're dead now." Was that four words? Just because there was a contraction did it count as three words? Is that really the important thing right now? Get a grip. But I couldn't. I had proof positive that the afterlife was real, if I hadn't just been drugged and this was all some elaborate prank for some new TV show, anyway. What had happened to me? How had I died? I didn't feel dead, I felt, well, like myself. I still had teeth, and hair, and fingers. Should I have those things, being dead? I wasn't a ghost, floating and transparent. I was wearing clothes for goodness sakes. Would I need to, being dead? I seemed to recall a good enough, if short, life. But now this guy was saying I was dead?

"You're one of the last to arrive, and I'm sure you have plenty of questions Denice. It is Denice, right? Denice Aberdine?"

I mutely nodded.

"Wonderful. Let's get you down to the presentation which I'm sure will answer many if not all of your questions and your new life, that is to say your new afterlife, can begin."

"K," I squeaked, the only thing I could manage at the moment.

And so I found myself sitting with five hundred other souls, as the "screen" that hung in midair before us played a video about our new community of Midveil. We had left the office by the same door I had come in through, and I expected the room with the "Everything Is Fine" written on it, but instead we had descended some steps into what was essentially an empty field. Even in my dazed state I looked around and took in some details. There was the grassy field, there was more grassy field. In the distance, more grassy field. Perhaps sunlight glinting off a body of water of some kind? Hard to say. At the horizon there seemed to be a ring of mountains surrounding us, as if we were in the center of a mountainous ring, and as I turned around I saw the large building behind me. This was the only structure in view, and it looked like a really huge warehouse of some kind. Doors and windows dotted the walls I could see, heading off to my right. The only other thing of note were the five hundred chairs and four hundred and ninety nine people currently in them. An attractive looking woman stood before them, and as I got closer I noticed most of them looked as shell shocked as I felt. I took my seat, the man joined the woman up in the front, and the presentation begin. The quality of the image was exceptional, better than life. Colors and text, rich and sharp beyond my knowing filled the screen as everything was explained in simple terms I could easily grasp. The music, the man on the screen talking, (I noted it was the same man that greeted me) seemed to be right next to me without being too loud. All too soon (had it been ten minutes? An hour? Two?) the presentation was over and the man, who reintroduced himself as Michael, and the woman as Janet, stood before us all. The screen was gone, vanished as the presentation ended. "Any questions?" he asked, giving us a smile. I blinked and looked around. I had been staring at the screen without really seeing it, listening to the man's voice without really hearing it, and suddenly realized I hadn't retained a single fact that had been presented to me. Other eyes, also frozen with indecision, stared back at me as they turned around to see if I had comprehended anything. No one moved. No one coughed, or itched, or shifted position. I wasn't even sure they were breathing, I wasn't sure I was. I was dead, right? Presumably everyone here was. Why would we need to do any of those things anymore? Still there was a tension in the air, everyone silently screaming to everyone else to please, please be the one that asks what's actually going on around here so they didn't have to.

"Anyone?" asked Michael. "I mean I know I do a mean presentation but there must be some point you're not clear on? Hello?"

Silence.

Someone has to do something. Say something. Have him run the video again? Explain what's going on himself? What is going on? Am I really dead? It seemed to be up to me. I had to take one for the team, step up and give voice to what I saw on everyone's faces. They weren't going to do it, I could see it in their eyes. It had to be me. I hesitantly raised my hand. Michael clapped once as if with relief and pointed. "Yes, you in the back. Our last arrival, Denice. Don't be shy, stand up and ask your question."

Don't be shy? Four hundred and ninety nine pairs of eyes (plus Michael and Janet's) pinned me to the spot, but this had to be done. I stood, those nearest me awash in relief that someone, anyone, was going to give voice to their concerns. To be the first one to take a stand. To beat back the darkness and wring some answers from this guy. I had to make it good, everyone was counting on me. I had to be clear spoken, firm, no nonsense, and unrelenting. We needed answers, and it fell to me to get them, it seemed. That was fine. I was ready, I was willing, I had the spotlight and I wasn't going to back out now. I summoned all my courage and asked- no demanded to be told;

"What?"

I felt my face turning red. Was that still a thing here? Did I even have blood to rush to my face if I was dead? That was really the best I could do? I'm letting everyone down, aren't I? I'm a horrible person, why did I have to put my hand up in the first place? This is awful. I wanted to run, to hide, but where? I was in an endless, empty, grassy field. Trying to hide behind the building was no good, I was going to carry this shame forever, wasn't I? If I was dead, there was no dying to get away from your problems like when you were alive. No, I had to own this one moment for the rest of eternity. I expected everyone to burst out laughing, at me, at my stupid face, my dumb question, and my crappy life in general. I braced myself for it. Some part of me even welcomed it, to give validation to that voice in the back of my mind that I was worthless and this, this, would show me.

But no one was laughing, in fact I even got the sense that most were grateful for even this one word question. Everyone slowly turned back to Michael, smile slipping off his face. "Ah," he said, now looking a bit out of sorts.How can I see him so clearly when he's in front of all these rows of people? I never needed glasses but at the same time everything looks so clear here."Maybe I have been rushing you a bit. Never mind. Take a brochure, pass them back." I noticed Janet was handing out something at the front of the group. "It explains everything. Had them printed up special, so you could refer to them going forward. Big experiment we're running here, have to keep everyone in the loop. Can't really go over everything again, we have a schedule to keep. Come along. You can look the paperwork over later. Next is the warehouse tour. Chop, chop! This way. Everyone keep up, here we go."

He headed back towards the building and everyone looked to me, some with questions on their faces, some with incredulity that my bravery had not been rewarded. I had nothing to give them, I was in the same boat as them. I wondered if sitting down and refusing to move would be a power play or the equivalent of a temper tantrum by a two year old. It didn't matter, my chair was gone, vanished as if it never was once I had stood up. Had it ever existed? Did I exist, if I was dead? But I still felt real, and all those eyes felt real, so what did being dead actually mean?

"I guess take a brochure and let's follow him," I said to them with a shrug. "It can't hurt at this point, right?"

Betrayal? Was that what I saw reflected in their eyes? Should I have done more, demanded more? Taken a stand against this Michael, if that even was his real name?Wait, if we're dead is that the angel Michael? I knew the name but not much else, I had never been very religious. But no wings, he just looks like an older gentleman one might see on the street. Would an angel hide their wings?Everyone looked around and with no other soul managing to take the initiative back from me started to get up. As they did their chairs too vanished, so soon this would be a completely empty field again. I made sure to get a brochure even just to have something solid to hold on to, and we headed back towards the building. It seemed I was waking up, my brain finally getting into gear and taking charge again. I looked the crowd over. If we were really souls like he claimed why were we all still wearing clothes? Shouldn't the denizens of Heaven be beyond such things? Where was the love of God, shining across our faces and giving us feelings of contentment? The wispy clouds? The chorus of angelic beings singing God's praises (that was basically all they did up in Heaven, right?) in the distance? Heaven? No, if this was heaven West Virginia really did have their slogan right, which would be the saddest thing I had ever heard. But it couldn't be the other place, right? No trip to Hell would begin with a kind looking old man and a video presentation, right? Midveil, that's what he said this place was called. It was also printed on the front of the brochure. It must mean something. Not Midvale, Midveil. Odd. As far as the people went I saw they had seemingly come from all over, given how they were dressed. There was a lady wearing something from India, there was a very dark skinned man wearing not much at all. Another lady wearing a hijab, another man in a fire fighter's uniform? Okay that makes no sense. Unless… That's how he died? They seemed to be all ages as well, I saw kids and the elderly alike, though all seemed spry enough. Backs unbent, heads held high, no walkers or wheelchairs among them.But if we're dead, where is everyone? Why only these few? Hundreds of people must die every minute on Earth, it doesn't make sense.

We pressed on, through the large doors in the building and lights started coming on high above us. Even given how large the building had appeared the interior looked larger, and an amazing sight met my eyes. Rows of machines to one side, stacks and boxes and bags of materials to the other.

"As you can see," Michael was saying, "in Midveil you will be provided everything you need to build the community of your dreams. This way please." He moved towards the materials side of the place, and I stared. Is that huge container really heaped with gold? It looked like gold, and the sign on the side of the blue plastic box read "gold" but that must be impossible, right? "Each container is labeled, and basically infinite. For example, if you look over there to that stack of plywood." He gestured, and everyone looked over there. "If you took twenty pieces of wood from that stack you would find the height of the stack had not changed. Same with any container in here. You don't need to worry about running out of any raw material, and every earthly raw material can be found here. There's no need for that," he said suddenly, looking back at the container of gold. Two people froze, hands on the gold and pockets clearly stuffed with the stuff. "You can always come get some later, this is your home now, and that's only worth anything as a raw material. No money here, get it?" They sheepishly started putting the gold back.

Awkward. Well, we know what kind of people get… So are we in Heaven or not?

"Sir," said a voice. "What's in that container?"

We all looked at where the guy was pointing, and while I could see the container just fine the sign had a chemical formula or something on it, not a name like everything else seemed to.

"Oh, that. You don't have a name for that on Earth yet, you haven't discovered it," he explained. "It's a room temperature superconductor. I think it'll be discovered in space in about six hundred earth years?"

"Six hundred eighteen years, seven months, sixteen days, twenty two hours, three minutes, and eight seconds from… Mark," said Janet, looking pleased.

Yeah but how many milliseconds, bet you can't tell me that! Who is that lady? Some kind of angel of knowledge?

"Unobtanium?" someone else blurted.

"If you like."

I looked back over at it, and did a double take. Now the sign read "Unobtanium" just like that.

"There's a few others like that, and even some material from your fictions we've managed to whip up," he explained. "Vibranium and the like. We want you to have every opportunity."

There was a general ripple of excitement in the crowd. I had heard that name before, but I couldn't exactly place it. Marvel movie, maybe?

Michael was already moving on, back to the other side of the place. I gave a quick look to the side I was on. It seemed that just about everything was here, stacked neatly or rolled or in bins. Paper, cloth, metal, wood, in various shapes and sizes, colors and weights. All rows far enough apart machinery could move between the rows easily, for easy access and transportation out of here. Stacked on shelves, in bins, all according to how it was best to contain them. You didn't want your gold nuggets rolling around on the floor, now did you? Of course not.

"And here we have all the machinery we'll think you need. Earth movers, trucks, saws, over there you'll find a variety of hammers, screwdrivers, that sort of thing. You need to build your own village but we're not making you start out banging two rocks together. That would really be cruel." He laughed at his own joke, but no one else did.

Tough crowd. May as well keep up the momentum, now that I'm thinking a little more clearly. "Does anyone here know how to use any of these machines?" I asked. Ninety percent of people shook their heads.

"I did a little carpentry, I can nail things together," one person said. "Never built a whole house though, nothing like that."

"So what good does all this do us?" I demanded. "You might as well show star trek replicators to a person that can't speak. How are they going to ask for their tea, earl gray, hot?"

"Tour isn't over, we're not just dumping you here, you know. You really didn't get anything out of the presentation? This was all in there."

I started to feel a bit angry. Who did this guy think he was, anyway? Jerking us around like this! "I got told I was dead and two minutes later you expect me to be taking notes at a collage level seminar? You're crazy! You haven't even offered me any proof I'm actually dead and this isn't some gigantic prank. Though the screen was… Invisible so I don't know how you managed that otherwise." Huh. And the chairs vanishing, that was a neat trick. And all these machines, and those raw materials… What else could it be?

There was a general agreement that went through the crowd. Maybe I was winning them back a bit from my earlier misstep.

"Oh dear," he moaned. "I guess it was a lot easier when this place was fake, huh Janet. We didn't have to actually worry about them understanding it."

"And most of the 'residents' were in on it," she seemingly reminded him. "You wanted the humans to be uncomfortable and confused. Now we want the opposite, however we seem to have done a poor job of it. Perhaps the founders should have come to speak to them directly?"

When this place was fake? The founders? What in the world are you blathering about now?

"Maybe. Too late now though. Can we at least get through the tour? Please? I've been excited about it for weeks now, we can have a question and answer section afterwards. Promise!" He crossed his heart. "And the answer to your question, by the way, is the next stop on the tour, so don't think I've forgotten. I haven't."

"Seems we have nowhere to go, out into the endless field outside," I grumbled. "Please, by all means, if this tour is sooo important to you, let us continue."

"I really have made a mess of this, and I really thought I had it this time. Sorry about that, I'll try to make it up to you. Somehow. This way, please."

Had 'it?' What 'it?' And what 'this time?' What is going on around here?

We moved through the warehouse, past rows and rows of pristine construction machines I had no technical names for but had always seen in use everywhere, and Michael opened up a door in the wall and we all headed up a flight of stairs. The ceilings were pretty high here, so we all trooped up for quite a while, and he opened the door at the top letting us through. He was looking all proud again and as I got through the door I could see why. The vibe here was very different. Rather than a plain metal and concrete storage area with no furnishings whatsoever this place looked like an old library. That you might find at Hogwarts. The ceiling here was high as well, making me wonder was the outside of the building this tall? That's a lot of ceiling to stack one on top of the other. A huge chandelier provided light for the place, and racks of books stretched endlessly in all directions. The floors were carpeted in a rich red, there were tables, desks, and areas with squishy beanbag looking chairs to read in. Tapestries covered the walls, making the place look more inviting, and were those fireplaces I saw along the walls? That cozy glow could only be made by real fire, right? A huge staircase in front of us led to yet another level, with more books beyond. Everything wood looked to be a rich mahogany or something, what did I know about different types of wood? But the place smelled of ink and paper, the first scent of anything I had smelled since I got here, and I realized the answer to my question was here before he even spoke.

"Here you will find books on any subject, from how to dig sewers to how to erect skyscrapers. You'll first want the manuals for the machines downstairs I expect, with a bit of practice you'll be using them in no time. Then you can worry about how to shape glass, how to mix chemicals, all that stuff. It's all here. Please, take a look. Let's go over there first." He pointed in a random direction and we moved as a group, all of us a bit awed by the sheer number of books we were in the presence of. "Even how to create the latest in quantum processors found on Earth," he went went. "And it'll update itself too. If they discover some new process on Earth, it'll be reflected here instantly. Of course if you come up with something novel using the new materials we've provided that discovery too will be reflected across all libraries here. And it's not just technical manuals, either. On the second floor you'll find books on a wide variety of subjects such as psychology, ethics, even fiction. Every book, every play, every published journal entry is here somewhere, from the beginning of human history to today. You don't want to see the card catalog," he joked. "And the same principal applies here. One person takes a book down, that's not the only copy, another person can take a copy of that same book down. But it's the same book, you see? So if you make a note in one it'll be reflected in all copies. I'm especially proud of that property. Books away from shelves last for 24 hours and then sort of dissolve, so you'll have to come get them again. Didn't want you making a book fort or anything instead of building real buildings." He paused for laughter.

But I was only half listening at that point. Something in the distance caught my eye. Something impossible, even beyond what I had seen already today. Infinite warehouses full of tools and raw material? Please, ho hum, so boring. Lame, even. But this?

"Michael, what is that?" I demanded to know, pointing.