Okay, irritatingly attractive recruiter, time for me to squeeze some information out of you.

“Fine,” I say. “Tell me about these Makers.”

I gingerly settle myself back on the edge of the bed feeling skittish, like a bird on a windowsill, unsure of what is glass and what is sky.

Michael swivels the desk chair to face me and sits. He takes a deep breath, then says, “Imagine a society devoted to advancing the world scientifically, artistically, and socially. Where everyone is committed to bringing more beauty to the world and eradicating the horrors of inequality and illness and ecological damage.”

I hear the passion in his voice, and I envy it.

“You’re describing a utopia.”

“Not quite, but as close to it as history has ever seen.”

A bubble of excitement expands in my belly.

“And you’re saying this society exists?”

“I’m saying it exists and that I want to take you there.” His eyes sparkle with excitement, and his smile is so wide I almost forget I’m not supposed to trust him.

“But if what they’re doing is so great, why does no one know about it? Why aren’t these ideas helping the rest of the world?”

“Because we’re hunted,” Michael says matter-of-factly. “We’re in hiding. And we have been since the original Makers were forced to flee during one of the Roman Inquisitions. Before then, they were scholars of an academy in Italy renowned for its advancements in art, science, and philosophy. It attracted scholars from around the globe who wished to be modern ‘muses,’ like the mythical goddesses said to have inspired the arts and sciences.”

This is the confirmation I’ve been waiting for. These Makers are definitely the exiles.

“What happened to the school?” I ask, and I’m genuinely curious to see if his account will match the blurry version I’ve been told.

“The Makers’ science, and their philosophy in general—the Church hated it. Some of the academy’s research was definitely… ethically questionable. Amazing, but highly experimental. They believed that humankind being ‘made in the image of God’ meant it was their job to ‘continue the creation of the world,’ to perfect upon it. And this philosophy was considered deeply heretical.

“And when the school refused to conform to the Church’s narrow restrictions of what could be taught and studied, Inquisitors came”—his voice grows quieter—“and burned the academy to the ground.” He looks away, and the column of his throat tightens as he swallows. This is ancient history, yet he acts as if the pain is still raw, as if it hurts him personally.