The Perfect World (The Perfect World Series Book 1) (27 page)

Cyrus spent the next few days resting in the hospital. The staff were very attentive towards him, which he suspected was because of where he had escaped from. Scott and Ms. Linda visited him every day, spending a few hours talking to him and sparing him the monotony of listening to the buzzing of the different machines and reading the same four magazines over and over again.

When the wound in Cyrus’s shoulder seemed to be making a nice recovery with no signs of infection, the hospital was considering letting him out. However, he was informed that there were two tests he had to pass before he could be released into the public. One was a physical examination and the other was psychological.

Cyrus understood the need for the physical exam, but he wasn’t quite sure what a psychological exam entailed. When Scott and Ms. Linda arrived that day, he decided to pose the question to them both.

The conversation between the three of them was going fairly normally. They asked him how he was feeling, and he said he felt fine, albeit bored. Scott would usually ask him to compare it to his boredom of sitting in classes in the perfect world, which would make him smile. When the conversation hit a lull, Cyrus cleared his throat and finally decided to ask his questions.

“I’m sure you both know they’re considering letting me get out of this hospital soon,” Cyrus paused as they both nodded as confirmation, “but first I have to complete two tests. One of which is psychological.”

Scott and Ms. Linda exchanged a look but said nothing.

“What is a psychological test exactly? The doctors here said that its some kind of brain examination. Are they going to have to open up my head or something?” Cyrus was a bit nervous at the idea. 

“No, not exactly.” Ms. Linda gave him an unusual expression of sympathy. “The doctor you’ll see for this is known as a psychiatrist and they’re trained to study a person’s psyche. The state of your mind, to put it in simpler terms,” she added when she saw she had just confused him further.

“Okay,” Cyrus replied slowly, not really seeing the link, “so these psychi-something or other things are going to, what, study my brain?”

“That’s close enough,” Ms. Linda said with a wry smile. “It’s not as strange as you make it sound. All you’re going to do is sit in a chair and have someone talk to you for an hour.”

The explanation just left Cyrus feeling more confused. “So, wait, how is just sitting and talking examining my brain? Can’t I just do the same thing with you or Scott?”

“I’m afraid we’re not trained for that,” his old caretaker explained patiently. “These psychiatrists spend years studying the human mind so that they can properly examine and treat any problems that they find.”

Seeing the worried look on Cyrus’s face, Scott piped up and said, “Don’t worry, there’s nothing wrong with you or anything. It’s just that after being in the perfect world system for so long, it can be hard for people to adjust to life inside the Dome. Some people have a real hard time coping with what they’ve been told is true and what the truth really is. The psychiatrists are here to help with that. Once they see you’re okay, they’ll let you go. I had to do it too when I first got here. It’s really pretty easy.”

“Okay, that doesn’t sound too bad.”

“When are your tests, Cyrus?” Ms. Linda asked.

“They should be today. If they go well, then I can be released tomorrow,” Cyrus added hopefully.

Ms. Linda smiled warmly at the words. “That’s great. I can’t wait for you to get out of here and see the world for the first time.”

“Plus, you’ll finally get to try decent food instead of this stuff.” Scott pointed to the discarded hospital tray.

Cyrus frowned. “I thought the food here was pretty good.”

“Compared to the perfect world, yes,” Scott agreed. “Of course, I think dog shit would be better than some of the stuff they fed us there.”

“Language,” Ms. Linda said to Scott firmly.

Scott winced. “Sorry, Mom.”

“Mom?” Cyrus had never heard that word before. His confusion must have shown in his voice, for both Scott and Ms. Linda were looking at him with an expression of pity.

“We’ll explain later, Cyrus,” Ms. Linda said gently as she ruffled his messy brown hair. Then, she pulled a small rectangular gray device from her pocket, similar to what John Eldrick had, and checked the time. “We need to be going. Your physical exam will be starting soon. I’m sure your doctors wouldn’t appreciate us getting in the way.”

Cyrus winced, thinking of a particular old, grumpy nurse whom Scott had taken to sticking his tongue out at every time her back was turned. “No, I suppose not.”

“Don’t worry, Cyrus. It’ll be over before you know it and then you can get out of here. I bet you’re dying to get out of this room,” Scott said with a grin.

“And once I get out of here, where will I go?” Cyrus asked in a small voice. He had wanted to ask that question for the past few days, but he hadn’t found the right moment to do it.

“With us,” Ms. Linda told him in a voice that left no room for argument. “We waited years to be reunited with you, Cyrus. Did you think the two of us would just leave you out in the cold once you arrived?”

Cyrus shook his head quickly. “No, I didn’t mean anything like that! It’s just—there’s so much I don’t know and …”

“Then ask,” Scott interrupted him. “We know you’ve got a lot of questions about everything. We won’t laugh at you.” Cyrus raised his eyebrows and Scott grinned sheepishly. “Okay, maybe I will, a little. But I don’t mean anything by it, I swear! I’m sure I asked some pretty dumb stuff when I first came here too.”

“That you did,” Ms. Linda confirmed with a smirk.

“Hey!” Scott protested as Cyrus started laughing.

“Excuse me.” The three of them turned towards the door at the sound of the voice. Cyrus recognized the blonde-haired nurse he’d seen when he first arrived. “The patient will be taken to have his physical examination soon. I have to ask the two of you to leave.”

“It’s fine. We were just leaving,” Ms. Linda reassured her before turning back to Cyrus. “Well, good luck young man. We will be seeing you tomorrow to help you do some paperwork.”

“Paperwork? That doesn’t sound like any fun.” 

“It’s not. That’s why they got the word ‘work’ in there,” Scott told him as he and Ms. Linda headed for the door. “Still, once it’s done, you’re free to do anything you want.”

“Almost anything,” Ms. Linda amended. She smiled reassuringly back at Cyrus, sitting forlornly on his white bed. “Take care Cyrus. We’ll see you tomorrow.”

“See you,” Cyrus called out to them both as they exited his hospital room.

“Your physical exam is in fifteen minutes,” the nurse informed him once they were alone. “I’ll take you to the room where the preparations are being made. If you could follow me please.”

Cyrus did as he was told, stretching his legs out after sitting on the bed for so long. Truthfully, he was happy any time he got to walk around, even if it was to go take an exam. He followed her down the plain white hallway with several doors heading into different rooms with a variety of patients. Cyrus often looked in on them when he could, wondering what they were here for and wishing he could talk with them.

The nurse led him to the elevator where they went up to the third floor and went to the left once they had exited the elevator. The room in question was locked from the outside by a small keypad to its right-hand side. The nurse typed in a few numbers, swiped her card and the doors automatically opened. The nurse stepped inside and Cyrus followed her.

The room itself was a bit dark with a variety of machines he had never seen before. The darkness of the room made the pristine white of the machines stand out all the more. Cyrus was about to ask about what all the machines were for when a voice from behind cut him off.

“Cyrus Wright?”

Cyrus turned to see an older man wearing nurse’s scrubs standing near the wall. He had a paper thin, brown machine held at his side that he must have been using to type results into. His blue eyes were kind and his voice was soft.

“Yes,” Cyrus answered as he watched the man push some dark hair from his eyes.

“The one from the perfect world?”

“That’s me,” Cyrus answered as the man came closer.

“Well, that explains the number of tests we’re required to do today.”

He tilted his head at the words. “What does that mean?”

The doctor smiled. “It means that you have quite a few tests lined up for you. Usually, we only do this when a person has been very badly injured, but since you’re walking around and seem fairly healthy, I assumed you might have escaped.”

“Wait, why do I have to take so many tests just because I’m from the perfect world?”

“Because of this.” The doctor went to a small metal pan off to his left and picked up a pair of gray tweezers. From the pan, he picked up a small computer chip, no longer than a finger nail. “Do you know what this is?”

Cyrus shook his head ‘no’ and the doctor said, “It’s a tracking device. It lets the leaders of the perfect world know where you are at all times.” He placed the small chip back into the pan as Cyrus let the information sink in. “We need to do a thorough examination to make sure there aren’t any more of them. Do you understand?”

He nodded, but he made no move to go towards any of the machines. “That one is supposed to let them know where I am at all times, right?” The doctor nodded. “Why would they need to put more than one of them into me? Are there different types of these things?”

“Yes, there are. The one I found is a tracking chip, but there are others. Some of the chips monitor all of your body functions to make sure that you are healthy. Then there are those that can be placed into you and allow the leaders of the perfect world to communicate with you.”

“Oh,” Cyrus said as he caught on, his stomach dropping at the very thought. “But even if they did that to me, I wouldn’t have to listen to them, would I? I could just ignore them, right?”

“Maybe,” the doctor hedged as he prepared one of the machines. “It would depend on what kind of chip they placed inside of you. Some of them are stronger than others. Some of them might be able to send signals to your brain to act in ways that are beyond your control.” His blue eyes met Cyrus’s green ones, “Hence the tests.”

Cyrus decided not to argue anymore. He laid down flat on the white table the doctor had prepared for him. From there, he remained as still as possible while machines of all kinds examined him. They scanned his brain several times just to be sure there were no hidden chips lodged deep within its depths. When all of the tests came back negative, Cyrus breathed a sigh of relief.

“Happy with the results, are you?” the doctor said with some amusement. “We’re happy with them as well. It means we don’t have to conduct any tricky surgery to remove those chips from your body.”

“‘Surgery?’” Cyrus asked.

“It means putting you to sleep and opening up certain parts of your body so that you can live.”

“You can do that?” Cyrus gaped.

The doctor laughed at the question. “Yes, dear boy. In fact, we did a small one with you on that shoulder of yours.” He pointed to where Cyrus had been shot. “We had to go in and make sure there wasn’t any major damage or bullet fragments left over.”

The young man let that information sink in with amazement. “We never learned anything like that in the perfect world.”

“And you wouldn’t have. They’re very strict about what they allow their students to learn in the Dead Zones.”

“Um, why are they called that?”

“I’m sorry?” The doctor looked up from the report he had been filing on his device.

“Why are the school areas called ‘Dead Zones?’”

“Oh, you don’t know—well, I suppose you wouldn’t.” The doctor scratched his head with a grin. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize earlier. It’s just that questions like that are similar to asking me if humans need to eat food. We learn all of this stuff when we’re very young, is all.”

He cleared his throat and continued, “They’re called the Dead Zones because only a few authorized personnel are able to access them. The teachers, the caretakers and the few staff at the dormitories to handle the chores such as cooking food and doing laundry are the only ones allowed inside other than high-ranking officials. If anyone from another Zone decided to try and get in they would be severely punished and most likely eliminated.”

“There are more Zones than just the Dead Zones?”

The doctor laughed. “There would have to be for their society to function at all. The Dead Zones are where the children are raised and the schools are held. There are six Zones that we’re aware of. They are the Dead Zones, the Residential Zones, the Military Zones, the Government Zones, the Worker Zones and the Disposal Zones.

“The Residential Zones are where a few people are allowed to go to after they complete their time in the Dead Zones. Mostly the Residential Zones are made up of perfect world officials, their friends and a smattering of new blood that is deemed worthy of joining them. These areas are under constant scrutiny, and no one is allowed to leave them without special permission from the government officials.

“The Government Zones are reserved for the top officials of the perfect world. For instance, President Bertrand resides in the largest one on the East Coast. I take it you know who that is,” the doctor added as Cyrus’s eyes flashed.