The New World: A Novel by Chris Adrian, Eli Horowitz Read Free Book Online

the house is over.”
    “Oh, I see,” Jim said calmly, though the thought of other people in the house made him want to start crying again. It was a few more rooms before he could ask, without his voice breaking, where they all were.
    “Camping!” Alice said. “But they’ll return soon.” They were in the kitchen, Sondra’s favorite room, which opened directly onto the terrace. As Alice took him into the open air, Jim wondered if he was dressed properly to go outside—loose white silk pants and a sleeveless shirt—or if this was just what men wore in the future, Don Johnson pajamas, while the women all dressed like sexy nurses. Alice was patient when he slowed down and stepped cautiously on the terra-cotta tiles of the terrace. They were warm underneath his feet.
    “Can I ask you . . .” Jim started to say, but she shushed him. They were entering the orchard—it was apple or pear trees or both. He couldn’t tell because the fruit was all so small and young.
    “No questions. Just walking and listening. With your ears and your skin. Listen with your
toes
.”
    “But what if
she’s
here?” Jim asked. “It’s not too crazy, is it? To think she might have followed me?” When Alice tried to put a finger to his lips he grabbed it and held on tight. “I won’t let go of your finger until you answer me.” But his hands were sweaty and she popped her finger out easily.
    She sighed, then frowned. “If your former wife were here,” she said, “you would never know it. Not on this side of your Debut. The challenge is the same for all of you, no matter when you lived your first life. The same for woman, man, or other.
If
she were here, the challenge would be the same for her.”
    “She’d have to forget me?”
    Alice made one slow, grave nod.
    “But then we might be reunited again, eventually, after the Debut?”
    “You are facing the wrong direction,” Alice said, grabbing him by his shoulders and turning him irresistibly. “If you are going to speak when you ought to be listening, then you should at least ask questions that can be answered.” She gave him a push. “Now
listen
. With your toes!”
    “But a person can’t listen with their . . .” he began to say, but his toes convinced him otherwise before he could finish his sentence. “Oh!” he said. It wasn’t really listening, of course, but his toes were taking information out of the grass that seemed to be more than just tactile. “Oh, that’s nice!” he said, going step by step through the orchard. Alice followed. “You will be ready to make your Debut,” she murmured behind him, “when you have utterly Examined and emptied yourself of every memory of your past. That is your
only
job while you’re here in the house. But it’s easier to consider, isn’t it, when you are listening with your toes?” They passed through the orchard and over the creek, then went farther, past a barn and through a meadow, up and down a hill and along the edge of a wood, Alice all the while describing what Jim had to do to become not just a visitor in but a
citizen
of the new world. “Incarnation, Examination, Debut. Always in that order. You’ve got to be empty before you can be filled. And yes, there will be a test here and there, and daily exercises to help you on your way, but we can’t really
test
you on this any more than we could
do
it for you. We’ve learned better than to try to decide for you what part of who you
are
doesn’t depend on who you
were
or who you
loved
. Not even our best quantum mindsurgeons would dare ever try to wield such subtle knives. So
you
have to do it.
You
find the memories.
You
make the cuts with a knife that
you
make
yourself
.” She was quiet then, though Jim could hear her stepping behind him—he was distracted by his feet and toes, so sensitive now that he barely had room in his head to appreciate anything except how it felt to walk on the damp green moss that covered all the ground beneath the