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on. ‘Think about this rationally, then, and ask yourself what’s stopping you from living the rest of your life by this ideal? In every single moment, you make the right choice. You tap into some primordial consciousness, you grow connected to this earth, to all other living beings, to Mother Earth herself. You liberate yourself from mediocrity and complacency. You achieve unimaginable things, and you do it effortlessly, because you make the determined, conscious, committed choice to do it. Does that sound like something you two might be interested in?’

Violetta said, ‘Hell yes it does.’

Maeve laughed. ‘I like your spirit. And you, Alexis? Are you willing to find out what you’re capable of?’

But Alexis hesitated, unwilling to dive in so fast it’d seem suspicious. She let her face turn overcast. ‘I wouldn’t know where to start. That’s not … who I am.’

Maeve stood up, rocketing out of the chair. Her voice rose. ‘Don’t you understand, girl? That’s what this place is. That’s why you ended up here. It was Mother Earth, Gaia, guiding you to a better future. I’ve studied the power of the human spirit my whole life. I’ve found ideas, actions, habits … that make you unstoppable. I want to share these gifts with you, Alexis. And you, too, Violetta. I want to open your eyes to a new world. Where every action you take, every step forward, is charged with purpose. Every time you make a decision it’s bursting with relentless energy. It comes from this ground we live on, this bubble we inhabit. It’s right there for the taking. I would like to show you how to take it. If you’ll let me.’

Violetta said, ‘Yes,’ without hesitation.

Alexis said, ‘What does it involve?’

Maeve sat back down and smiled warmly. ‘Nothing crazy. But now I feel comfortable sharing some things with you. This commune is a liberation movement. We call it “Mother Libertas.” We’re unlocking human capacity, becoming the optimal versions of ourselves, finding purpose in a cold, sad world. I warmly extend an invitation to you both. If you’d like, join us. If not, carry on with your travels. But I want you to give it some real thought. You might choose to leave too hastily, and end up back in the aimless wandering you’re already sick of, and then you’ll most definitely look back on your life and ask yourself … “What if?”’

Alexis said, ‘It sounds too good to be true.’

‘Maybe because it is,’ Maeve said. ‘For something to be “true” or “acceptable” it must coexist peacefully with a functioning society. But our society is broken. People are torn between the useless see-saw of the political spectrum. They’re fat, tired, overworked, undernourished, chemically addicted, broken in the soul. We offer something purer. We offer hope.’

“Chemically addicted,” Violetta thought. That’s rich.

But the scary part was Maeve had a point.

The movement made sense. There was something romantic and poetic about detaching yourself from the world, starting anew in an exotic location, stripping yourself down to your basic instincts so you could change your automatic habits. Violetta knew King and Slater were masters of the concept. It worked. They made the hard choices in every moment, and it had carried them to where they were today. But sometimes concepts are so appealing that they’re ripe for exploitation. That’s what Maeve was doing.

Speaking some fundamental truths about the world, sucking in her audience, and then using that initial devotion to make them servants to her every whim.

Hell, Violetta thought, every salesman does it.

She was taking the practice to its extreme.

And succeeding.

Alexis broke the silence. ‘I’m in. I guess it takes courage to admit you’re lost. And I’m lost. I’ll try anything.’

Maeve looked at Violetta.

Violetta said, ‘I was in from the moment you started talking.’

Maeve smiled. ‘I’m thrilled to hear it.’

Alexis said, ‘What now?’

Maeve waved a hand dismissively. ‘Nothing. You’ve been here half an hour. The first step is understanding our way of life, integrating with the community. I assure you it won’t be difficult. Everyone here is accepting. You’ll feel right at home. So I’ll get Brandon to show you to your room, and then over the next few days we can practice some of the strategies I’ve discovered about how the human mind really works.’

The women nodded.

Maeve jutted her chin. ‘Go on, then. You’ll find Brandon at the bottom of the hill. I instructed him to wait.’

Alexis said, ‘You knew we’d accept.’

Maeve shook her head. ‘You’d need to be shown to your rooms anyway. It’s a common courtesy.’

‘If we refused,’ Alexis said, ‘you wouldn’t have kicked us out?’

‘Of course not, darling,’ Maeve said. ‘Do you think I’m a monster?’

Yes, Alexis thought. Yes, I do.

36

In one of the outbuildings on the other side of the commune, Elias practiced close-range elbow strikes.

The sequence was part of Biu Ji, “Thrusting Fingers,” the third form of the traditional Chinese martial art Wing Chun.

He slammed an elbow into the mu ren zhuang, a wooden dummy designed specifically for Wing Chun practice. As he threw the strike, he made sure he was aware of every atom in his muscle chain, using the supreme control of his body to harness his ki, his energy.

Elias had practiced Wing Chun his whole life. An outcast in his home town of Cheyenne due to social awkwardness and lack of conversational timing, he’d retreated into a shell at the age of fourteen and never really left. He’d spent hours every evening after school watching videos on the martial art, practicing on a wooden dummy he’d built himself. That first dummy had been a cheap imitation of the real thing’s craftsmanship, but it did the job. After school he’d drifted from manual labour job to manual labour job, which helped harden his thin, tall frame. He continued to devote his life to Wing Chun, mastering each of the forms in turn, working on his close-range strikes until he achieved a breakthrough at the age of twenty-five. It was then that he was able to tap into his ki at will,

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