A Land of Perfects

by Bella Forrest

  “You know, I’ve asked myself that question many times,” he replied. “I’ve yet to come up with an answer that satisfies me, to be honest. I think I should start by telling you that I, too, am the creation of someone else, Derek.”

  I didn’t say anything, my breath cut short for a moment as I took that in.

  “You mean to tell me you’re an artificially created hybrid, just like your Faulties and Perfects?” I managed.

  “I was made in a glass dish, yes, but I am no Faulty or Perfect. I am unique in my design and complexity,” Ta’Zan replied as he climbed the stairs. “Before me, the Draenir used to populate Strava. Good and intelligent creatures. I carry most of their genetic package. They crossed their own genes with a few animals, aiming to create a superior being, which they did,” he added, pointing a thumb at himself. “But I was the only one of my kind.”

  “What happened?” I asked.

  There was a door at the top of the stairs. He pushed it open. White light burst through, so I stayed back for a few moments, not sure whether it was the sun or a light fixture. He looked at me over his shoulder, then smiled.

  “It’s okay, Derek. It’s artificial light. I suppose your eyes are still adjusting to your new environment,” he said.

  I nodded slowly, then went up the stairs and joined him in what looked like another hallway. This one, however, was pure white, its walls, floor, and ceiling polished to perfection. There were dozens of glass doors on both sides.

  “A terrible plague happened, Derek,” Ta’Zan said. “I’d finally learned how the Draenir had made me. I’d understood their technology, I’d absorbed their knowledge, and I’d accepted the philosophy behind their actions. I figured I was smart enough to make more of myself, basically. But a disease started sweeping through the Draenir society. They started dying off.”

  We passed by several doors, until he stopped in front of one and went into the room. I quietly followed, then came to a sudden halt, stunned by what I was seeing. It was a laboratory, filled with heavy machinery and computers—different, yet remarkably similar to what I’d seen on Earth. Based on the same scientific principles, they fulfilled the same purpose.

  There were four Faulties in that room, all females covered in snake scales, but in different colors and sizes. They all looked at me for a second before resuming their work. One was studying a computer screen and taking notes. Another measured red-and-blue liquids in glass vials, then added them into what looked like a centrifuge. The third used a pipette to add a black liquid to a tray with hundreds of tiny, rectangular plastic cups, and the fourth wiped down what looked like a sample fridge.

  I didn’t recognize the language, or the symbols used to mark each button and cabinet door, but the overall picture was pretty clear. There was some heavyweight biological and chemical research going on in here.

  “So I took everything I could fit inside a transport shuttle, including biological samples and equipment, manuals and research papers, and found a secluded island where I could continue my work,” Ta’Zan continued, standing in the middle of the room as he watched the Faulties work.

  “You didn’t try to cure the plague?” I replied.

  He shrugged. “I did. But there was no cure. It was a difficult strain. An intelligent virus, one might say. The Draenir were doomed, and I didn’t want to die with them, which is why I chose isolation. After a while, I created the first Faulties. My first experiments weren’t all that great, to be honest. I came up with some truly horrific abominations. Most died on their own. Others, I had to put down myself, in order to end their misery.”

  My blood ran cold as I envisioned that scene. It was something out of a sci-fi horror movie, and it made my stomach churn.

  “What about them?” I asked, nodding at the Faulties.

  “They were some of my first successful specimens,” Ta’Zan explained, smiling. “Excellent cognitive abilities. Sharp reflexes. The strength of a hundred Draenir compressed into one body. So I kept creating them. I guess I was beginning to feel lonely at the time, while my creators were dying off, one by one,” he added, then turned to face me. “Some of the Faulties were excellent at aiding me with the lab work. Others carried what I like to call the ‘imbecile gene.’ In the long run, they would have died off, but I gave them a chance to exist, doing menial tasks, such as domestic service and building shelters for the smarter ones, mining and building large structures, even work on the assembly line for our machines, sewing, knitting and agriculture, so on and so forth. You know, the basics of a thriving civilization. The advantage of Faulties is that they’re much faster and more efficient than the Draenir. What a hundred Draenir could do in a week, five Faulties accomplish in a day. It’s a pleasure to watch them work.”

  “How did you end up in the pods?” I asked.

  He walked past me and back to the door, motioning for me to follow him. We got back into the hallway, then headed to the opposite end from where we’d first come. He opened another door and guided me through an enormous hall shaped like an egg, with an arched ceiling and smooth white walls.

  Natural light came in, filtered through large panels of frosted glass. It didn’t burn my skin, but it warmed me up on the inside. It was as close as I would ever get to feeling the sun on my face.

  There were dozens of square tables with computer screens mounted onto their surfaces. Perfects, both male and female, sat in groups of six, wearing white earpieces connected to the screens through slim white cables. They were all superb, like Abaddon and Ta’Zan. Some had white hair, others blond, black, or red. The females, about two hundred of them, all had deep blue eyes. The males carried Ta’Zan’s strange gene, replicated hundreds of times—for there were at least four hundred male Perfects in that hall. One eye blue, the other green.

  Goosebumps tickled my skin as I gawked at the creatures before me. They were all clad in strips of white silk, tightly wrapped around their torsos and limbs. They were all listening to and watching the information conveyed through the screens—flashing images and words, pouring into their young minds. This was a learning center.

  “I kept making Faulties, but the Draenir, in their dying desperation, started spreading out,” Ta’Zan said, crossing the hall. “They found our island and sought refuge in our new home. But some had brought the virus with them. I had no choice but to kill them and the Faulties they’d infected. I took the five hundred survivors and four of my living sample specimens and set up the stasis system in the cave where you found us.”

  “Wait. Four living sample specimens?” I asked, somewhat confused.

  “Well, I don’t collect my prime genetic material from dead specimens,” he replied. “I can, and I often do, but I prefer my subjects alive. There is only so much I can lift from a corpse, Derek. A living creature, on the other hand, is a practically infinite source of genes, proteins and binding enzymes that I can work with.”

  “You mean to tell me you preserved four living Draenir? Or am I getting this wrong?”

  “You’re getting it absolutely right.” He chuckled softly as we passed by the study desks. “Anyway, I decided we had no other shot at survival without a three-century-long stasis, in complete isolation. I figured it would be plenty of time for the virus to die out. It was quite a firm organism, from what I remember. It didn’t mutate to affect other animals. It only killed the Draenir. Without any Draenir in its reach, the virus died. I was pleased to discover it only took a hundred and twenty years for that to happen.”

  The Perfects didn’t even notice we were present. They were completely absorbed in their screens, sitting still and quiet.

  “What are they doing?” I asked Ta’Zan, pointing at them.

  “They’re learning,” he replied. “As soon as I woke up and found myself surrounded by my surviving Faulties, I was thrilled. The first thing I did was an area scan, making sure there were no traces of the viral infection that had destroyed the Draenir. Then, we caught movement on the other side of the island, so I took a few of m
y Faulties to check things out. We found you and your people, Derek, talking about the cave and the pods. I was instantly fascinated.”

  I scoffed. “So you decided to kidnap us.”

  “You’re superb specimens, Derek. Like nothing I’d seen before,” he replied. “I took the occasional off-planet trip before the stasis. I’d collected genetic samples from all kinds of supernaturals. Druids, swamp witches, incubi, daemons, succubi… even fae, witches, and warlocks, though I could never pinpoint some of their origins. I recognized Corrine, Ibrahim, Lucas, and Aiden for what they were. But you and the others, Derek… What are you, exactly?”

  “Vampires,” I said.

  He grinned. “Oh, that I could tell. Long story short, I couldn’t leave without your group. I knew, deep down, that I’d found new genes for my work. I’ve been working toward perfection for a long time. I even put myself into a three-hundred-year sleep, just so I could survive and keep creating superior forms of life. Granted, your dear Claudia was clumsy enough to let me out earlier, and that saved me two centuries’ worth of time and research.”

  I looked around again, breathing heavily as the complexity of this entire endeavor began to weigh down on my shoulders. “How’s it working out for you?”

  “Fantastic, Derek. You see, there’s something in your vampire genes that is the perfect binding enzyme,” he replied. “It’s how I was able to create the Perfects. Beautiful, gracious, and intelligent, yet utterly powerful and fearsome. Able to run and fly so fast that they can break the sound barrier in a split second. Thanks to you, Derek, I was able to achieve perfection.”

  That didn’t sit well with me. In fact, it horrified me. If Ta’Zan’s concept of perfection was tied solely to physical performance, then yes, Abaddon and his siblings were exactly that: the epitome of genetic engineering. But their moral compass was off. They considered themselves superior. They didn’t tolerate creatures they considered to be beneath them. And that broke my heart.

  I was looking at hundreds of Perfects who were being taught that they were better than anyone else, and the only ones deserving of life. I couldn’t let Ta’Zan do this.

  “And you made them in… days?” I croaked.

  He shook his head. “It takes less than six hours to produce a new Perfect,” he said. “I’ve set up two Perfect blueprints, one male and one female, as the basis for each specimen. I’ve instructed the Faulties in my service to add certain abilities to each. I wanted them somewhat different from one another, so they wouldn’t feel like clones.”

  “But they’re exactly that,” I replied. “They’re copies of the same mold, aren’t they?”

  He nodded. “Yes. But they deserve a dash of uniqueness. They all share basic abilities—flight, speed, strength, and their connection to the natural elements. On top of that, some can cast magic. Others can influence the weather, manipulate metals, and so on.”

  “So how old are these Perfects?” I asked.

  “A day and a half,” he said, smiling. “I no longer have to make them myself. With the blueprints already set, my capable Faulties can develop them. We have all the technology and resources that we need here, including artificial wombs. Once they come out, they’re cleaned, dressed, and introduced to this new world.”

  I exhaled sharply. “You mean, they’re plopped in front of these screens and given your version of what is right and wrong, huh? Since you’re obviously the one teaching them to kill those beneath their… genetic perfection. Right?”

  Ta’Zan looked at me for a while but kept quiet. The way his pupils dilated, along with his even breathing, I figured he was trying to measure his response carefully. It was becoming difficult for me not to think of bashing his head in—one such idea, and the collar would jolt me. Even worse if I decided to do something.

  “Derek, I was made because the Draenir believed the universe could do better, with a little help,” he finally replied. “I’m simply continuing their work. To be honest, I don’t see myself as perfect per se, but I have all the tools and knowledge I need to create perfection, as you can see,” he added, nodding at his Perfects. “A new age is coming, and I’m the one leading it. By the time I’m done, there will be no more chaos, no more wars and bloodshed. My Perfects aren’t designed to wage war. They’re designed to rid the world of warmongers, and to create the perfect society on every inhabitable planet out there. They are agents of eternal peace.”

  If I’d been creeped out before, now I was downright petrified.

  This was the most dangerous type of delusion out there, and it seemed to transcend multiple dimensions. Back on Earth, humans had committed terrible atrocities in the name of dreamy utopias. They’d killed millions over the years, convinced that their laws, their societies, and their cultures were the only ones that deserved to survive.

  Ta’Zan was doing the same, from a eugenics perspective. Only he wasn’t doing it on a global scale, like the humans. No, he planned on “cleansing” the entire universe. Billions of creatures would perish, simply because he didn’t think they were physically advanced enough to deserve to live.

  I was beginning to feel sick, as I struggled to maintain my composure and keep my head clear.

  But dread pummeled me like a vicious hurricane, making it nearly impossible to even breathe. This wasn’t one of those “we’re screwed” scenarios. We’d lived through plenty of them. No. This was way worse.

  We were doomed.

  Derek

  “This is wrong. On so many levels,” I whispered, mostly to myself.

  Ta’Zan scoffed, then took me up another flight of stairs. As soon as we reached the top, he stopped, turned around, and handed me a small red capsule.

  “Swallow this. We’re going outside,” he said.

  I stilled, staring at the pill in my hand. “What?”

  “If you don’t want to get burned alive, take that pill,” he replied. “I devised it after I figured out your natural weakness to sunlight.”

  Almost without thinking, as if a part of me wanted to see what would happen, I swallowed it. I felt a momentary pang of regret, until my skin began to tingle. Ta’Zan then pushed open a pair of white doors, and sunlight swallowed me whole.

  My heart stopped.

  My first instinct was to run and hide before my skin burned.

  But nothing happened. I looked down, then back at Ta’Zan, then outside, where a stunning arena stretched out. He stepped out, and I quietly followed, allowing the sunlight to constantly touch me. I didn’t feel hot or cold, but I didn’t burn, either. Whatever that pill was, it stopped the sun from practically killing me.

  I couldn’t help but gasp.

  “Derek, I think it’s time you learned to trust me,” he said, stopping on the edge of the arena and turning to face me. “I mean you no harm. I’d much rather have you alive and content than dead. I get more out of this arrangement if you’re breathing.”

  “More genetic material, you mean,” I shot back, though I was unable to take my eyes off our stunning surroundings.

  We stood on the edge of a circular arena made entirely from a diamond-like crystal. It was framed by an enormous colosseum built from the same material. Sunlight went through and broke into billions of specks of color, reflecting in different directions and giving the entire building an ethereal look.

  I was moved to tears by its sheer beauty. The architecture was quite simple, but the diamond had an incredible visual effect. I could see hundreds of Perfects roaming the hallways. Some were training in the arena below. Here and there, Faulties moved around, carrying food and water pitchers, clean silken sheets, and other objects pertaining to daily household tasks.

  Everything was in plain sight. I could see through the rooms, though the crystal walls did distort the images. Nevertheless, I was able to observe and understand the purpose of each chamber and hall. This was an entire city compressed into a colosseum, with living quarters, bathing halls, and dining rooms.

  Beneath it were Ta’Zan’s labs and study hall
. Farther down, underground, was our prison.

  We spent some time watching the Perfects spar. They moved incredibly fast—like lightning. Whenever one of them darted toward another, it set off a sonic boom. It was going to take a while to get used to hearing that sound and stop flinching.

  They were unbelievably strong and agile. Chills ran down my spine as I imagined myself fighting one of them. Judging by how they moved and the devastating impact of their hits, I didn’t stand much of a chance. All my fighting experience had simply flown out the window in the presence of Perfects.

  “My Perfects aren’t just made fast,” Ta’Zan explained. “They’re quick learners. I’m able to teach them fifty years’ worth of academia in the span of a couple of hours. Most of their combat reflexes come naturally. The rest they learn in sparring sessions. And yes, they all need experience, Derek, but it doesn’t take long for them to acquire it.”

  I crossed my arms, grunting. “I don’t doubt that.”

  “They’re the result of years of studies and experiments. I want nothing but perfection, but not only physically,” he said. “Societally, as well. The Perfects understand that, in order to achieve universal peace, they need to eliminate all the creatures that are prone to war and weakness. Unfortunately, that means entire civilizations. I’ve gathered enough data from my travels to conclude that every single species that’s even remotely similar to ours and the Draenir has engaged in a war at some point, for land, for riches, or simply out of jealousy. It’s in their nature.”

  “That’s how nature works, Ta’Zan. We’re all animals, and all animals are territorial,” I replied. “We fight to defend ourselves and our loved ones. Yes, it’s true that many of us have engaged in senseless wars, but that is what me and my people have been working to fix for decades now.”

  “And how would you describe your results in achieving peace, so far?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.