We turned our glances to each other again, trying to make sure we had all heard the same.

Four hundred and sixty-two years old.

"You look," Mat said with his lips dangling, "You look, fantastic."

Evee threw her arm across her chair and at Mat.

"Creep!" she said.

"What!?" Mat said and protected himself with his arm.

Genevieve laughed again, her spotless tan skin turned pink as she blushed.

"No offense taken," Genevieve said, her steel-blue stare glowed at Mat.

"How is that even possible," I said scanning her up and down looking for any signs of her age.

"I was the vision of my fathers work," she said, "A society free of disease, death, and famine. A vision those within the Allied Nations disagreed with from the very beginning. Without a population reliant on their aid they would have no power.

"I have seen how far the Allies will go to keep their control over its citizens, but I have not been in hiding all these years. I've been here with you. With every person who has suffered on the other side of our walls."

Nate scoffed and crossed his arms to his chest, "How is that?" he said.

Genevieve turned her head sharply towards Nate, "It has not been easy. We have so much to spare, but very little we could do to reach those who need our aid the most," she said and paused,

"In less than a generation we have liberated millions of willing refugees, but after the First Child Law even with all our research and volunteers we have not been able to defend ourselves against their growing military strength."

"So what are you going to do?" I asked.

"Regretfully, we can do nothing," she said, "Not until we complete our final objective."

"And that is?" Nate asked.

Genevieve retrieved a small vial from a little metal box on her desk. Inside its glass vial was a clear liquid tinted a pale blue.

"This here, after proper distillation, contains a regenerative protein. It can be used to heal wounds and repair damaged cells over a course of carefully controlled applications. It is the reason for my own, and many others in the Union's longevity."

"Then what more could you want?" Mat asked.

"It is not an easy process to produce such a complex substance. Even with all our technologies we find ourselves in supply shortages that can last for decades. It is this inability to produce enough that is the eventual death of all our citizens," Gen said and looked out her window onto the glimmering city below us, "Our ongoing research is striving to develop the first generation of humans who can replicate this regenerative protein at need. They will be a new generation. An entire generation, who in theory, will never die."

Never die. It was an impossible idea until now. Everyone had to die. Even those who didn't deserve to.

"Then what do you need weapons for?" Evee fired back.

"Immortality is a gift, a gift that must be placed in the most deserving hands," she said and smoothed her fingers over a glass sphere on her desk, "There are those, as you know, who can cause exceptional harm to others however short their life may be.

There is no greater need than to keep this gift from them. There is no greater goal for them than to take it."

Genevieve traced her fingers over a glass sphere on her desk again. She seemed as lost in her thoughts as I was, possibly.

I couldn't imagine having any more thoughts than my own. Having any more people, you needed to speak to again, to ask one last question.

I looked up from my chair, my knees knocking against each other under the smooth fabric of my new pants. As I lifted my head, I caught her ice blue stare. She was smiling and at me. I felt myself blush under her spotlight.

"Sometimes words can fill your plate but still leave you famished," she said and walked away from her desk, her tall shoes clicking on the sparkling white floor, "I would like to give each of you a tour of our community. It should answer any of the questions that may remain."

It took a few moments to escape my own thoughts. I twisted my hands against the smooth handle of the chair and turned myself around. The others did the same, each in their own time.

Genevieve walked ahead and stood at a tall door that was illuminated at its sides. She waved the steel bracelet on her wrist over the door as the sound of compressing air came from the other side of the wall. The others and I moved back as the sound traveled under our feet.

Genevieve's pouty lips stretched into a small and amused smile.

"It is okay, the commute will be short," she said.

The walls at our sides dissolved as the other did before. I couldn't help but flinch back again. On the other side of the wall, a pit in the ground held a row of seats that faced away from us.

"Please, step inside," Genevieve said and pointed to a set of stairs into a dark pit in the floor.

We each stepped forward, holding onto the sides of what was once the wall to keep us steady. It didn't feel natural to walk into the ground with no way out, but it didn't feel like I had much of choice but to go in.

Genevieve descended the stairs on her tall white heels with grace. She did not look down to examine her steps but kept her stare high above her sturdy shoulders.

"We should be moving shortly," she said and sat in the single front seat that faced us.

At her command, the glass walls began to rise and encapsulate our pit. The movement was sudden, jerking each of us in our cushioned chairs. The air beneath us smoothed to even whirl as we traveled forward through the narrow and straight pit.

"We will begin in the center of our community, the gardens," Genevieve said, the sole light of the capsule illuminating her sides as she continued to press her steel bracelet.

"This houses the world's most prosperous and stable crops available on earth," she said as the capsule began to slow.

I looked out the glass, it was hundreds maybe even thousands of canopies rolled onto a flat land that was cut into even avenues and streets. Each block held their crops of leaves and fruits. The land towered up to the walls with every color of fruits and vegetables that could be imagined. Between their stalks, people with square white masks examined their growth with glass slates in their hands.

"The technology that allows for this successful yield of crops was patented by my father in the year 228 A.C. It was his most profitable and widely enforced patent during this time. It allowed him to fund the first establishment of the Vossler Union thirty-three years later. It still remains an invaluable contribution to our community."

Genevieve tapped at her bracelet as the air under the capsule began to wind faster and forward again. Soon we were slowing at the bottom of a large room. Through the glass floor, I could see hundreds of people walking above each wearing pale blue coats and swinging their arms close at their sides. They sped across the bright open room of tall doors and windows. However, none seem to see us below. Or none had cared.

"This is where we develop our newest technologies and innovations," Genevieve said and pointed out the window, "If you agree to our integration terms, this is where you will work to earn your contributions salary."

Before I could ask what contribution were or examine the strangers more, the capsule began to speed up once more.

"Our common areas are available to all of our geneticist, biochemical engineers, and their assistants. It is a favorite area among our newly integrated members."

Outside the glass, stood the buildings I had only seen from above. Their mirrored windows flickered against the bright sun of the day. At its center, there was an alcove of many trees along a walkway of blooming pink trees. The people in blue coats walked along the sidewalks all without looking up at its beauty.

Genevieve gestured over her steel bracelet, this time the capsule accelerated faster than ever before. It was no more than a few thoughts later before we came to a complete but smooth stop.

The walls of the capsule folded into themselves. We were now exposed in a strange murky hall lined with frames. Genevieve looked up from her bracelet and lifted her hands and up towards the stairs that were folding down into the pit.

The others lifted themselves with her. Their eyes wide and turning in their sockets to watch everything above. I imagined I must have looked the same. It was far from the squalor and rot that we had known. It was the impossible we were witnessing with our own waking eyes.

I lifted myself from the capsule and felt the plush burgundy rug sink under my flat shoes. The striped walls of the dim lit hall matched the rug. Each striped separated by a thin gold line that also matched the embellished gold vines on the walls crowning. It was a stark difference from the bare white rooms of early.

Genevieve walked ahead, making sure she was the head of our line.

She folded her hands and said, "This hall is an exhibit of portraits. Each portrait is an artistic representation of the early founders of our community to honor their contributions. This room has been preserved in its original decor."

Genevieve began walking up the hall in steady steps as she continued.

"The founding member's contributions were among the most crucial to our mission. The compensation for their contributions is still being distributed amongst their direct descendants to this day."

Their portraits were illuminated by a single yellow light. The heavy-lidded stares of the many people seemed to follow me as we paced up the long hall of faces. A particular man caught my interest. His receding gray hair was slicked back and curled against coarse white sideburns. His wrinkled stare was one that was unambiguous. He was a man of great pride.

Genevieve halted at this man's portrait. She let in a deep breath of air as she gazed at it with misty eyes.

"This portrait is of my father," she said, and reach out her lengthy arm, "The man who made all of what you have just seen possible. It is unfortunate to tell you, that he never got to see his vision while he was alive. This community and all it continues to do is but a tribute to him and his revolutionary ideas."

I looked at the portrait again. The grooves of the gold frame were sculpted into the thorny vines and lion heads. The lion's mane resembled the man in the painting. Their stares were both boastful.

Genevieve continued to gaze at the portrait in silence. I looked past her and between the space of her arm to see a painting of a young girl. Her pool-like eyes stared at me and wouldn't let me go.

Genevieve lowered her head and moved away from the portrait of her father revealing the painting behind.

"I see you've taken an interest in my portrait," she said and pointed to the portrait of the young girl, "It was commissioned by my father in 236 A.C. and was painted by the late Simone Amadei during his early years as an Ally Nation Ambassador."

I studied the thick strokes of paint layered onto the portrait. Genevieve was no more than four or five. There in the gold frame, she sat in a grand red velvet chair with gold arm rests. Behind her the dark oak room was teeming with books, papers and a large globe teetered on the floor. Her ice blue eyes stared far into the distance. Her white hair was tousled like a crown of spiraling ringlets. Her delicate hands were neatly folded on her lap and on top of the layers of cream colored lace that made up her dress. Around her collar, was the silvery gray pelt of a young wolf. It's growling face rested on her shoulder.

"I hope this tour has provided you with the necessary information needed to accept our integration terms," Genevieve said, "As you have inquired, our committee will be meeting with you to discuss this in further detail. I have arranged for a private dinner this evening."

We each nodded in silence. We had been this way for some time with no seeming way to come out from it. The more we said, the more questions we had.

Genevieve stepped to the side of a door and turned it's handle, revealing a room illuminated and white. Behind the door, two men in black armored uniforms and square black sunglasses stood.

"I look forward to seeing you again tomorrow evening," she said and stood away from the door allowing us through, "Please take this time to deliberate your terms with each other."

We filter through the doors as told. Our hands close at our sides, and our stares blank. I had almost made it from the door when I felt a hand breeze past my head.

"Such unique hair," Genevieve said and hovered her hands over my hair, "It reminds me of a friend I once I had,"

"Thank you," I whispered, feeling a heated blush come over me again.

"I'm sure in time we will consider each other friends as well - " she said and released the lock of my hair.

I nodded and left the doorway as quickly as possible, feeling the door close behind me. Evee walked close to my side as we followed the two guards into another elevator.

"What was that about?" she said close into my ear.

"I don't know, just being nice I guess," I said and pursed my lips.

Nate let out a loud breath of air from his lips. The guards fixed their stares and frowns onto him as the elevator ascended.

I was spinning. Unable to tell the top of my head from my toes. It was a feeling I'd had many times before. Another chance at home. A rush of dread came over me as I thought about the council and the dinner that was about to happen in just a day.

Even with all this possibly somehow I knew, this would be our last chance to find a home.