Entry Zero

A novel of the possible: a world that has left money behind - not calculated,
but told.

An island off Canada's Pacific coast, a Swiss alpine valley, a Costa Rican
rainforest: across these three places, "Entry Zero" follows four generations
of one family between 2029 and 2100.

It begins with a woman counting one hundred and forty cedars. It ends with a
federation that has no centre and three days in which to decide what becomes
of the last central key in its history - while, at the edges, other hands are
already reaching for it. Between the two lies a love spanning fifty years
across the divide between two economic orders, and one hour a day that appears
in no register. He keeps the last secret of the most transparent society in
history. Only in the year 2100, when the sealed "Entry Zero" opens, does their
granddaughter learn what the world's most honest economy was really built on.

The novel is neither dystopia nor pamphlet. It assumes what is usually meant
to be proved: that a society without money can work, with no central power,
within the limits set by our one and only planet. And it asks the harder
question: what the passage there costs - and who pays for it, across
generations.

As a document it rests on verifiable sources - a report on global justice, a
white paper on networked coordination, a climate scenario from the IPCC - and
leaves its framework open to inspection. Between the chapters stand documents
from the world it tells: a leaf from the island community of 2032, a newspaper
article from 2050, a consensus report from the year 2100.

The foundations of the book, and the workshop behind it, are open to anyone.
A freely accessible documentation sets out the ground the told order stands
on, and marks every claim: evidenced, to be settled in a laboratory, not
testable. With it, the register of every single version:
https://entryzero.vercel.app

As a question, it remains: whether a just order can do without innocence -
and whether a society that no longer tolerates a centre can endure holding
that very central power in a hundred hands at once.