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Back The Last Christian
Chapters (58)
  1. Cover
  2. Other Books by This Author
  3. Title Page
  4. Copyright
  5. Dedication
  6. Acknowledgments
  7. Prologue
  8. 1
  9. 2
  10. 3
  11. 4
  12. 5
  13. 6
  14. 7
  15. 8
  16. 9
  17. 10
  18. 11
  19. 12
  20. 13
  21. 14
  22. 15
  23. 16
  24. 17
  25. 18
  26. 19
  27. 20
  28. 21
  29. 22
  30. 23
  31. 24
  32. 25
  33. 26
  34. 27
  35. 28
  36. 29
  37. 30
  38. 31
  39. 32
  40. 33
  41. 34
  42. 35
  43. 36
  44. 37
  45. 38
  46. 39
  47. 40
  48. 41
  49. 42
  50. 43
  51. 44
  52. 45
  53. 46
  54. 47
  55. 48
  56. 49
  57. 50
  58. Author’s Note

Sabin laughed. “I told you it would have a kick.”

“It tastes…awful.” She started to laugh. “And all these years I’ve wanted to try it.”

“It’s an acquired taste.”

Sabin held out his hand, and Abby handed the wineglass back to him. “So what do you do next in this remembrance?”

“That’s all.”

“That’s a very short ceremony.”

Abby nodded. “It’s a reminder of what Jesus did for us.”

Sabin looked at the wineglasses. “You believe this stuff deeply, don’t you?”

“Yes, of course.”

“What’s it like, believing in something that much?”

She shrugged. “I never really thought about it in those terms. Isn’t there anything you believe in?”

He shook his head. “Not in that way.”

“Hmm.” She looked to the floor, lost in thought, then back at Sabin. “It’s…comforting. To know I have someone who hears when I pray.”

“Do you really think there’s someone up there, listening?”

“I know there is.”

He set the glasses on the floor and looked at her. “Abby, do you feel lonely? In the States, I mean.”

Abby hesitated, then nodded. “I guess I do. Nothing is familiar, and I’m not close to anyone. But God is always with me.”

Sabin regarded her a moment. “I can’t relate to what you say about God.” He smiled warmly. “But I’m glad you’re here, Abby. I’m certainly learning some interesting things.”

Abby smiled back. “I’m glad too, Sabin.”

14

I had almost given up hope of hearing from Abigail Caldwell when the tap came. She was using a visiscreen, but her image, of course, was transmitted directly to my neural implants. Even more than I had noticed on Global Sunrise, I was struck by this woman’s presence—her arresting black hair, her striking face, her athletic body. I pushed those thoughts out of my mind.

“Hello, Ms. Caldwell, my name is Creighton Daniels. I’m a history professor at the University of the South in Dallas. I saw your interview on the Global Sunrise show, and I wanted to invite you to do a question-and-answer session with one of my upper-level classes, American Cultural History Since 1900.”

She arched a brow. “A question-and-answer session?”

“Yes. I’d brief my students on your story and ask them to prepare questions for you to answer.”

“In person or in writing?”

“I’d love for you to appear in person here at the university, if you’re willing.” I didn’t tell her that the class met in VR and we could project her in from any location. I wanted to meet her in person.

“Mr. Daniels, why would your class be interested in asking me questions?”

I took her queries to be a positive sign. If she had no interest, she would have rejected me out of hand.