The Sisterhood of Jez — Chapter One: The Flight to Lyrenna

 

The engines of the Aurelia Skyliner 908

thrummed like a restrained tempest, their

steady vibration pulsing through the ribs of

the aircraft. Outside, Sydney International

Airport shimmered under the fading glow of

dusk. The horizon burned orange and violet,

gilding the silver fuselage of the plane with

the dying fire of another day.

Don Ray sat by the window, a half-drained

glass of whiskey resting on the tray before

him. The reflection in the glass caught the

lines of his face; carved by time and

memory. He was clean-shaven, his scalp

deliberately bare to disguise the onset of

baldness. This feature gave him a youthful

edge, one that softened his severity and

made him quietly appealing, especially to the

ladies.

He watched as the last rays of sunlight drew

thin across the tarmac, swallowed by the

shadows of departing aircraft. Somewhere

out there, beyond the Pacific, beyond the

myth, lay the Republic of Lyrenna.

He tapped the screen embedded in the seat

before him, scrolling through the airline’s

glossy digital brochure. Then he saw his

destination.

Welcome to Lyrenna: Where Grace Meets

Progress.

The world’s first paradise: built on

compassion, innovation, and order.

He smirked. Paradise, they called it.

He’d read the articles, seen the

documentaries; a nation that rose from

obscurity in barely a decade. A floating jewel

in the South Pacific. Machines ran the

factories, drones patrolled the borders, and

medicine there had outpaced every known

standard. The global media called it “Eden

2.0.” Others, less charmed, had given it

another name: The Feminist Vatican.

To Don Ray, it was something else entirely;

a puzzle he’d been trying to solve.

 

A shadow fell across him. He looked up.

A poised woman in her mid-twenties stood in

the aisle, wearing a low-neck white blouse

and a short blue skirt beneath a matching

suit. “I think this is my seat,” she said,

smiling politely.

As she sat beside him, he studied her face

more closely. A strange sense of familiarity

tugged at him; a whisper from a lifelong past.

“You look… familiar,” he said before he

could stop himself. “Like someone I once

knew. A doctor.”

Her eyebrows lifted, a flicker of curiosity

crossing her expression. “A doctor?”

“Yes.” He hesitated. “But she’d be much

older now. You could be her daughter. Or

niece.”

She laughed softly. “That’s quite a

coincidence,” she said. “I am a doctor. Dr.

Lyra.” She extended her hand. “Pleased to

meet you.”

“Don Ray,” he said, shaking it. Her grip was

firm; deliberate and confident.

 

The plane began to taxi, the engines

deepening in pitch. The world outside

blurred into twilight as the aircraft prepared

to pierce the sky.

They talked as the city lights fell away

beneath them, conversation flowing easily,

unexpectedly.

Science. Technology. The rapid evolution of

medicine. Lyra spoke with the sharp clarity

of someone deeply educated, and deeply

passionate. Yet there was something else

beneath her composure. A subtle restraint. A

professional precision that reminded Don of

surgeons and spies alike.

When she asked about his purpose for

visiting Lyrenna, Don answered carefully.

“I’m attending a short academic program;

recent advancements in biomedical systems

with a focus on prosthetics.”

Her interest sharpened instantly. “You’re in

the sciences?”

“Used to be,” he said. “Biomedical

engineering. A lifetime ago. These days, I

manage investments, do a little consulting.

Semi-retired, I guess. The course seemed

like a good excuse to see Lyrenna myself;

not just what the world says about it.”

She tilted her head. “And what picture did

the world paint for you?”

He smiled faintly. “Heaven on earth. A utopia

led by a goddess, supported by a legendary

doctor and a… mysterious genius.”

Lyra’s lips curved slightly. “A mysterious

genius? That’s an interesting choice of

words.”

Don shrugged. “Every article mentions her,

or him, but no one knows who they are. One

person heading multiple agencies, inventing

systems that changed the nation. And yet…

no public appearances, no confirmed image.

Just a name, a rumour.”

She looked out the window as if weighing

her words. “Maybe it’s for security reasons,”

she said finally. “Or efficiency. Lyrenna

believes in minimal waste. With the right

Artificial Intelligence framework, one person

can do the work of thousands. The rest of

the world clings to bureaucracy; layers of

leadership, endless expense. Change is

difficult.”

Don nodded slowly. “Still, it’s impressive.

The world’s youngest nation, yet arguably

one of the most advanced. That’s why I’m

going; to try to understand what they’ve built.

How they built it.”

Lyra turned back to him, studying him in the

dim cabin light. “You’re going with a V-3

Luxury Patron Visa, right?”

“Yes,” Don replied.

“Only millionaires qualify for those.” She

smiled.

Don chuckled, deflecting. “Let’s just say

I’m… comfortable.”

 

For a moment, neither spoke. The cabin

lights dimmed further, washing the

passengers in soft blue hues. Outside, the

sky was a vast, starlit void.

Lyra glanced at him once more, not with

curiosity this time, but something else.

Calculation. Recognition, perhaps. Then she

smiled faintly, closing her eyes as if settling

in for the long journey.

Don turned back to the window, but sleep

eluded him. His mind was alive with

questions about the island, the woman

beside him, and the shadow of a face he

once knew; one that looked so much like

hers.

Continue the story in The Sisterhood of Jez

Or test your instincts in the interactive maze inspired by the novel’s central escape sequence: Master of Stealth