The Perfect World (The Perfect World Series Book 1) (13 page)

Although the dictionary that Ms. Linda had provided Cyrus with had given him some hope for understanding his current predicament, life remained largely the same. He went to school and endured his boring classes week in and week out, along with doing his computer classes once he went back to his room. Ms. Linda became a bit more willing to answer his questions, though she never stayed with him longer than she had to. Cyrus still talked to Scott in the bathroom from time to time, exchanging the dictionary between themselves and discussing their disbelief at the information they received during their classes. He spent a bit of his class time gesturing and miming at Melody, wishing again that he was closer to her so that they could actually talk.

Three years slowly ticked by in this fashion for Cyrus. At ten, the biggest changes in his life were in his own appearance. He had grown quite a bit and was very gangly. Indeed, his caretaker had been fond of telling him that he was all arms and legs. His brown hair was just as bushy as ever, and Ms. Linda had to constantly give him haircuts to make sure that he didn’t look sloppy. The freckles on his face had added in number, though there still weren’t that many. His nose was as crooked as ever, but he didn’t mind. He thought it gave him character. His eyes were still a deep green and sharp, giving some much-needed color to his otherwise pallid appearance. 

Currently, Cyrus had gotten back after a long day of school. His classes generally followed the same script. Either they spent weeks going over the same worksheets again and again or he was treated to long lectures about destiny, specialness, emotions and how lucky he was to live in an Enlightened Society.

Ever since the young boy had been presented with the dictionary and learned that the information had been changed, he had taken everything he heard in class with a large grain of skepticism. At the moment, his teachers seemed to be emphasizing that the transition from Uncivilized Times to the Enlightened Society was a peaceful one and the will of people everywhere. It was for the good of all and the highest achievement of humankind, they always said. Every time they said it, Cyrus’s doubts grew about how true that statement was.

Cyrus sighed to himself as he lay on his bed, which wasn’t as big as it used to be, and stared at the ceiling. He still had a computer lesson to do before the day was over. He peeked over at his computer to see if it had turned on yet and saw that it still hadn’t. He remembered how, just yesterday, Scott had complained about how slowly the computers worked and smiled in spite of his irritation.

His thoughts were interrupted as he heard his computer whir and buzz as it turned on.

Finally!
He thought as he sat up and stretched.

Cyrus walked over to his desk, pulled out his notebook and pen before he plopped down on his stool. He watched his monitor warily as it began asking for names from the students on his floor. It had been acting up recently, sometimes turning off in the middle of the lesson and other times the program would shut down, leaving him with nothing but disembodied voices coming from his speakers. When he had told Ms. Linda about these problems, she didn’t seem overly concerned and said that it was just something that occurred in old buildings like theirs. When he pointed out that this had never happened even once before, she had promptly shushed him and told him to be patient. 

There didn’t seem to be any problems today as the machine started his floor’s vocabulary lesson. The computer read the word for him, he read it back when prompted and wrote down the definition. It was the same rote lesson he’d been practicing for years. However, just as he was about to speak the word for the computer, something strange happened. The screen crackled for a moment, the letters blurred, and the screen turned completely dark.

Cyrus groaned at the sight and hit the side of his monitor with the flat of his hand. When that didn’t work, he started pressing random keys on his keyboard to see if he could prompt any response. When he got nothing, he turned the monitor to the side so he could look behind it for any clues as to why it was malfunctioning. For the umpteenth time, he wished he had been taught how to fix these stupid problems himself.

A familiar buzz from the monitor alerted him that it was turning back on. When he turned the monitor back around to face him, he found himself looking at something he had never seen before. The screen was open to some kind of white menu, and there were different small files all over the screen. There was a little arrow cursor pointed at the top of the screen. Not knowing how to maneuver the little arrow on the screen, he began pressing buttons as fast as he could. Eventually, the tab key highlighted what he thought was a picture. He pressed the enter key and jumped when the selected file enlarged.

As it started playing on its own, Cyrus read the title that was written above the file in black. It read
Bloodshed Across the World.
The video started playing, and Cyrus’s eyes locked on the screen. At first, he was memorized by scenes of beautiful buildings, landscapes and a variety of people dressed in clothing of the likes he’d never seen.

Is this from Uncivilized Times?
he wondered as he tried to take in all the differences.

His mind was quickly pulled from the matter as short, sharp bangs began to ring out among the people. They screamed, speaking in tongues unfamiliar to his own, and started running in terror. The noise repeated itself over and over again, causing a chill to go down Cyrus’s spine. He knew he had heard that noise before, but where?

The camera shakily focused on a man in a black mask carrying a strange black object with a long, circular tube at its end. When the person pulled a button back, the short bang rang out. The camera zoomed to a person who was screaming as she ran from the chaos. Cyrus watched as her body jerked, red blood appeared through her shirt and then she fell to the ground. Silent. Still.

Cyrus’s eyes immediately went to the ceiling of his room. He remembered the strange noises from above on a night when the voice that had been yelling had vanished forever. There had been heavy footfalls and the sharp bang that echoed in the night.

Could it be …?

Cyrus turned back to the screen to see that the video had ended. He quickly clicked on as many as he could. The young boy watched the same scenes play out again and again, only with different people and places. Every video he clicked on, there was screaming, crying, running, and people dropping to the ground. Sometimes there was even someone who looked around his age crying and pushing at a body on the ground. Then there would be a sharp bang, the child would jerk and then collapse. Another still body.

Cyrus quickly went through those videos before he clicked on one with a different title. This one read
Youth Stands Up to Tyranny.
The video opened with a scene of a street with gray rocks and pieces of twisted metal piled up in the street. There were buildings off to the side with giant holes in them and they were glowing an orange-red.

The shaky video then zoomed in on a single man standing upon the rubble. He was a well-built man with blond hair that was blowing into his sharp blue eyes. His pale face was set into an expression of defiance and was covered in gray soot from the patches of nearby smoke. His clothes resembled the ones from the previous videos, with patterns, colors and designs that Cyrus had never seen before. His arms were muscular, and the pale skin was smeared with red blood. There was an aura of command about him as he pointed one of those black objects with the circular tube on the end at something off screen.

“Are you proud of your meager efforts?” A cold, smug voice asked from off-screen.

The shaky camera changed angles and zoomed in until there were two men in the shot. One was the blond man from before and the other was a tall, slender man with dark black hair and blue eyes. Cyrus frowned, puzzled that he felt like he had seen this man before.

“Did you think this would stop me?” the dark-haired man asked as the other continued to point the black object at him.

“No, but it’s better than doing nothing.”

The dark-haired man scoffed. “Action for the sake of action is meaningless. Action that prevents the natural betterment of society even more so.”

The words clearly agitated the other man, whose hands began to shake. “And who gave you the right to decide that this bloodshed was for the betterment of everyone, Bertrand?” 

Bertrand?
Cyrus’s mouth dropped open. Now he knew where he had seen this man before. This was a younger version Jack Bertrand, the first of America’s dynastic line.

“Bloodshed is inevitable when there are people willing to cling to the old ways when there is a proven, superior way to run society. What else can you do with people who refuse to see what is good for them?“

“And again, I ask, who are
you
to decide that?”

Jack Bertrand smiled at the question. “You ask that question as if I need anyone’s permission to lead. I am an enlightened man who simply understands that there is nothing to gain by resisting the inevitable. Instead, one must adapt to the changes presented and inspire others to embrace them. They must lead them against those who would not allow them to have their way, overpowering them by any means necessary. I am a natural born leader who has simply accepted his role in life. I have as much right as anyone to act as I have. More so in fact.”

The blond-haired man tried to say something, but Jack Bertrand cut him off. “Now it’s my turn to ask a question. You do not seem to be lacking in either intelligence or determination yourself. Why do you insist on choosing ignorance over progress?”

“For the same reason I would not choose to eat sand over bread. You and your followers have slaughtered so many people for the sake of change. Yet, none of you question whether this is change for the better or change for the worse. None of you see that your version of progress is nothing more than a lingering death for all who are forced to be part of it. If this new way were truly the best way then why would it be necessary to slaughter people from one end of the earth to another to bring it about?”

“An irrelevant question,” Jack Bertrand answered dismissively. “People are naturally afraid of what they cannot comprehend. Fear leads to irrational behavior. It is up to leaders like myself to show them the way and the light.”

The blond-haired man stared at him intensely. “Whether they wish to be led or not?”

“Those who will be led will be rewarded. Those who are not will be punished. Either way, it does not matter what they wish. In the end, this is what is best for them.”

“No, it is only best for you.”

Jack Bertrand laughed; a hollow sound that echoed through the air. “Of course, it is best for me. I will be the one to erase all of the doubts and hardships of life. I will end all their troublesome thoughts and give purpose to every human life. Yes, as their leader, I will benefit, but why should I not? I will have saved them from themselves. What more can humanity ask for than that?”

“They will ask for life,” the man replied in a strong, firm voice as red blood dripped from his arms. “They will ask to be free of a man who told them all that he knew better and built a society on their blood so that he alone could sit at the top of it.”

An ugly expression went across Jack Bertrand’s face then. It was smoothed over quickly, but there was anger clear in his blue eyes. “They are free now and what does freedom give them? Nothing but grief that they are begging to be saved from.”

“I do not recall asking you to save me. Has anyone asked you to save them?” The blond-haired man did not wait for a reply. “If your version of salvation can only be achieved through the deaths of thousands of people, then I choose damnation.”

Before the bleeding man could react, Jack Bertrand reached behind him and pulled out an object similar to the one being pointed at him. He grinned as he spoke again.

“The only people whom my followers and I have slain are those who do not know what’s good for them. By slaying them, I am merely saving them from themselves. Truthfully, it is an act of kindness.”

The bleeding man shook his head and smiled to himself as if something had been confirmed for him. “Tell me then, will I be lucky enough to have such kindness bestowed upon me?”

Jack Bertrand raised the black object in his hands and took aim. “Why else would I be standing here?”

A sharp bang fired and the video abruptly jerked. The blond-haired man turned around to say something as something red splashed across it. Then the video moved to the ground, focused on the rubble beneath it. More sharp bangs sounded and then the video ended.

Cyrus let out the breath he didn’t realize he was holding. It took him a moment to realize he was gripping his desk so hard that his knuckles were white. He released his grip and stared at the dark screen from the video.

That was Jack Bertrand? That was one of our leaders?

Cyrus thought about how he’d been told that their leaders were the most enlightened members of society. About how this society was humanity’s greatest achievement and that the transition had been a peaceful thing wanted by all the people living on the planet.

Clearly not,
the young boy thought, sickened at having been misinformed once again.

Cyrus took in another deep breath to calm himself. He placed his fingers back on the keyboard and was about to click on another video when his door burst open. The sound startled him so much that he fell backward off his stool and collapsed to the floor, striking his head on the ground. He groaned and held his head until the pain passed. When he opened his eyes to focus on the source of the noise, he froze in place on the floor.