She had been here before. The same strange stinging silence and familiar numbness overcome her; leaving her immobile and somewhat frightened. As many times as this can happen to somebody, every time it happens; it is more frightening than the last. Her eyes very sluggishly begin to see again. As always, the same woman stands before her.

"Do not be frightened, Annette. You will not be here for long; nobody stays here anymore." The woman smiles at her calmly, but Annette's fears are not silenced yet. The fabric of her life unfinished, loose threads hanging off on the end, suddenly starts anew. New threads weave their way through the same familiar pattern once again. Her sight fades away to darkness once more, and a familiar voice arrives at her ear.

"Welcome back, Annette." the voice says.

"Did you think I was worried for even an instant?"

"Of course not, your strength and confidence created this institution!" the man quickly replies. Then a warmer, friendlier voice interrupts.

"You were only truly dead for twelve seconds this time. Welcome to your third life madam."

"Thank you very much, you can bring me to my room now Charles." They leisurely walk a short path towards what resembles an elevator and walk in. Charles had been at her side since the very beginning. In the nearly three hundred years that they had been friends, nothing has ever stepped in their way; they have never had one argument that they could not recover from, not one time did they ever wish they had never met each other. Charles has always been there for her.

"Floor two hundred and twelve, room seventy-two." Charles speaks aloud. A few moments pass as the room vibrates slightly. A slight pull informs her that the pod is moving, and a few seconds later it stops. As the gate opens a rather small, but very cleanly kept room can be seen and Annette and Charles exit the pod.

"You may go Charles. I do not expect to need your assistance any longer tonight." Charles nods, and walks into the pod again.

Annette walks over to a very aged photograph in a golden picture frame. The photo is faded so much that the image is known only to her.

"Two hundred and twenty four years," she picks up the photograph, "and not an end in sight." She sets the photograph down as she hears a call arriving. Glancing up towards the large screen, she reads the caller's information. "It's from the ILP. What could they want at this hour?" Then, directing her voice at the screen she says, "Answer." The image of a very old, grey haired man appears upon the screen.

"Good evening Annette."

"Hello."

"I just received word of your passing, and wished to congratulate you in your third life." He glances down, then looks up again, "In the fifty-two year history of the Institute for the Perpetuation of Life, we have only lost eighty-two souls. We owe it all to you Annette."

"Why, thank you Sir."

"Good luck in this life." He nods, signaling the end of conversation; she smiles and the screen turns off.

_

"Good evening, class," a hologram speaks as billions of students, not just the young, but everybody watches with rapt attention from the comfort of their homes. Very few young watch today, most people who applied to procreate, are rejected. Memories of a time when the population raged out of control still strike fear in the hearts of the public. The hologram promptly begins its dialogue again. "Today you will learn about an institution very important to the fabric of our society, the Institute for the Perpetuation of Life. Students, how many of you can tell me what the minimum penalty is for attempting to encourage the end of your own life?" Around the country students chant out what they believe the answer is. "Very good, 83.9% of you answered it correctly. The correct answer is, 'A person attempting to encourage their own death, or the death of another, he or she will be released from their assigned occupation and assigned a new occupation in the high risk sector of the military.' In 2040 the first successful life perpetuation experiment took place, but it has only been for slightly less than one-hundred years that life perpetuation has been commonplace. Ever since that year the fabric of our society has totally changed, and the productivity of our nation has increased ten fold. No longer can the experience level of an employee be limited by the number of years they work until retirement. No longer can an employee's productivity be hindered by the fear of death. None of these problems, once commonplace three hundred years ago, affect us any longer. People now can live forever."

_

"You can't stay away forever Annette." His voice cuts like razors through her. She can feel the coldness of his breath upon her neck. Icy chills shoot through her motionless body. "You just can't. Do you even know what you have done?" She can do nothing but stare forward, her eyes gaping. The voice gets louder, "You have destroyed the balance! You have no idea of what you have taken from them. A soul without rest soon corrupts." He now walks from behind her to stand directly in front of her. His body rather undefined in the dark black suit, but his eyes seem to freeze the soul with every glance. "Nothing lasts forever Annette, I just hope you see that before you lose everything."

The screaming noise notifying of another caller awakens her. She stares blankly at the screen, contemplating about ignoring it. She then notices the caller claims it is an urgent message. Reluctantly she answers the call.

"Yes?"

"We seem to be having complications with the new drugs. Several hundred patients have called us complaining of terrifying dreams that the dream controllers do not seem to filter out."

"Yes, I know. I had a nightmare tonight also."

"Did you? Was it him again?"

"Yes. He is getting angrier."

"We needn't worry about him. The chemists are working on a new drug to eliminate the dreams again," he says very sure of himself. She then replies with a much more analytical tone.

"What if we were wrong about this? What if death is actually important, and we have created some sort of imbalance?"

"There is absolutely no research to point to that, Annette. Anyway, there is no going back now; we cannot take it away now." He pauses, "We need your approval to administer the new drug as soon as it becomes available."

"You have my permission."

"Thank you, good day." The screen then fades to the deep charcoal black again.

She again feels safe with her thoughts again, "Two hundred and twenty four years since it all started, and it is all my fault. I created a nation void of youth. Before I started my work there were young people. It was a long time ago when people really lived. She stands up and walks to the opposing wall, staring out the window at the crowded skies outside. "It still eludes me how the gift I thought I was giving has only become a bane to society. When people could die, they lived, and now that they live forever they are just caught up in dying. We all live forever, but life does not exist anymore." A tear forms at the corner of her eye, and she falls to the ground sobbing. "I helped them take away one of the most fundamental rights, people are now enslaved for eternity, rather than for only a lifetime." She then lays down upon her bed, and drifts away to sleep again.

"You're back again so early." speaks the all-too-familiar frozen voice. "You cannot just sit there and let these people suffer like this. They may not realize what has been taken from them, but I know, and so do you. You must let their souls rest. You must free them to restore the balance!" The voice angrier than ever before screams into her heart. For the first time she can feel her fingertips in the dream. Steadily, the numbness fades. She carefully, and very slowly tries to walk toward the dark figure; yearning to know of his identity. She reaches up at the face shadowed in darkness but his hand stops her. "You do not want to know who I am." He releases his grip from her arm, and moments later her eyes open again to the waking world.

She knew what she had to do. From day one he has always been there. Through every trial and tribulation, he has always been there. Every time she risked her reputation on a new concept, he has always been there. She knew today who she could call for help.

She steps into the pod, and commands it to go to Charles's floor and room number. Only moments later it arrives and Charles answers the gate.

"Annette, what are you doing up so late? And why did you-" he isn't given a chance to speak before she interrupts him.

"Charles, we can't do this anymore. I know something is going wrong because we have been playing God - I can feel it I have no doubts anymore, I know what I have to do. I want you to help."

"Its the dark man again, isn't it? I understand, I've been having the dreams more severely now too. I'll assist you." He smiles at her suspiciously, but she thinks nothing of it. It's Charles, he has always been there.

They both board the pod and command it to go to the control center, after stopping at the arsenal. Since both she and Charles are so important to the project, no questions were asked when heavy explosives were requested. They assumed it was for research purposes. Inside the control center is the nerve center of the ILP project. Hundreds of cubic feet of computers and other machines used to track, watch, control and protect the citizens from the evils of death. Each machine essential to the end result, to cheat death, and life, by making the pains of the living eternal.

Exiting the pod briskly, Annette dashes to the control center roughly in the center of the expansive room. Charles stays near the entry, pacing back and forth slowly; then locks the door. She places an explosive charge on the terminal, and looks towards Charles.

"Charles, put a charge on one of those machines over there. I know one of these could take out this entire room, but I just want to be sure," she says, pointing toward her left. She then raises her head to face his. A gasp of horror escapes her mouth.

Charles stands opposite her, pistol in hand, deviously staring at her. "Annette, Annette, Annette; You know I cannot let you do that." He steps a few paces closer, still holding eye contact, "this project is just too important for me to let you ruin over two hundred years of work."

"Charles! I trusted you!"

"I have grown weary of always being a subordinate to you. Now that you have threatened this treasonous act, I am authorized to eliminate you. Would you care to guess who your replacement will be?" Smiling even more broadly he resumes, "None other than her own friend and colleague, me." He strides forward a few more steps, now only a few meters from her, "The fact of the matter is, Annette, I used you. Do you really think I could get to where I am now if i did not have your coat-tails to ride on? I think not. Now that you're on top, and I am your successor, I no longer need your assistance." The threads stretching, pulling tighter; small fibers breaking.

"I'll press the button, Charles. I'll do it."

"You will not, if you detonate those now, all of these machines and both of us will perish in the explosion. You will not do it. You have devoted your life to saving life, you would not take your own."

She looks up at him, realizing the challenge he has placed upon her. She did not intend to die on this day. Only, to allow her own death. Would it be worth it to die in order to allow others that same right? She begins to strain under the tension. She looks up at Charles, "You're wrong, Charles." Snap. Glancing down at the detonator in hand, she presses the small red button marked "Detonate".

Fire shoots from the terminal behind her, decimating her body instantly. Shooting flames melt through the terminals nearby just before an explosion tears through the room, and other nearby rooms. It was over; finally it was over.

"Welcome back Annette. I trust you will be staying with us this time?" the same familiar woman says to her, smiling. But this time she is not alone, the man dressed in black stands next to her.

"Hello Annette. Welcome to the afterlife." he nods respectfully to her; then walks away whistling a tune she swears she used to hear Charles whistle.