The Birth of Dystopia

by A. Q. Moser

  If anticipation for the truth were drool, we were Niagara Falls from the mouth. Knowing how the subliminal messages were delivered opened the path to expose the individuals who played a game with our lives as wanton bullies out for domination.

  Billy took a wide U-turn and headed out to Ellinton Street. From highway four-oh-one, he connected to highway four-hundred, driving out of the city heading north.

  May fidgeted in her seat. “Do you think we should change cars?” she questioned, provoked by the secrecy.

  “No way, nobody is followink us,” Billy maintained with a high degree of certainty. “There’s enough room for all of us and his stuff.” He indicated Cadet’s luggage with a thumb point to the back.

  “I have no qualms with the mode of transportation. It’s comfortable and that’s all that matters to me.” Cadet was content that he had a free ride.

  A calm and proper drive from Billy was greatly appreciated. We were together five strangers, five people willing to fight. I smiled at this gathering—together and strong towards a voyage to destiny.

  “It’s a nice day for a drive,” I commented, appreciating a stretch of open road on the highway.

  May reached over and hugged me. She smiled. “We’re so lucky.”

  Cadet turned to face the backseat. “I’m confused by one thing. How did you find each other?” he asked, expecting a tit-for-tat for what he had revealed.

  Somehow I expected Cadet to be more knowledgeable about what was going on. “You mean you don’t know?”

  Cadet turned away to stare out the side window. “Um, I don’t know. I basically lived in a tree for years.” Not even trying, he gave up.

  “You start.” May offered the forum to Wolfgang so he can explain his side of the story.

  Wolfgang leaned in closer to Cadet. “My wife recognized a music video by the rock group Tank ‘n’ Wind,” he explained clearly. “A video that virtually portrayed a childhood dream to a tee to which my wife was made aware of. Perplexed, we decided to e-mail Billy through a fan e-mail on his website. Next thing we know, I’m flying from New York to Toronto to discuss the matter at Billy’s mansion.”

  “So a music video brought the four of you together,” Cadet repeated out loud, calling for more information.

  “Maayy’sss turnnn,” May sang uncharacteristically while bouncing up from the middle seat. “When I saw the video, boy was I freaked out never mind perplexed.” She waved a finger by her temple indicating the mind numbing experience of seeing the music video for the first time.

  “And so you e-mailed Billy too?” Cadet guessed.

  May sat back in the seat. “Yeah.” She calmed down, knowing her story was done before she could really start.

  “And you?” Cadet checked with me. “What’s your story?”

  The question came to me like I had nothing new to add—just as exciting as working the same computer packaging job day in and day out. However, the difference in my story there was no boring neglected e-mail. No sit and wait either. There was action in this life-changing event for I confronted Billy with my problem.

  “When I saw the music video about the steamboat, I felt compelled to move on it. It was some weird coincidence that Tank ‘n’ Wind was holding a concert in Toronto the following day. So I went a step forward and attended his concert.” Since I had a big part in uniting the group, I wanted to embellish the situation but decided not to.

  “Was this the steamboat nightmare with the red-white-red chimney stack and the six people at the green lamppost?” Cadet recalled.

  “Exactly, the same one,” I reassured.

  “If it weren’t for Joel to convince Billy, maybe we wouldn’t be here.” May patted me on the back.

  I smiled at being recognized for my effort.

  Cadet moved his stare from me to Billy. A captive audience of one held by a simple string of words. Neither a majestic professor nor a compelling reporter could have accomplished what I did, just a simple computer packager out to unearth a painful mystery.

  “I paid over three thousand dollars to get backstage passes in hopes of meeting with the lead singer Tank ‘n’ Wind.” I reached over to grab his shoulder expecting some recognition for my financial sacrifice.

  “And it was worth it.” Billy pressed his lips together and then sticking them out as if he were puckering up. “The concert rocked.”

  I remained quiet, unsure how to respond to the value behind meeting Billy.

  “Are you planning to give Joel his money back?” May jumped in.

  “I got somethink better than money,” Billy diverted. “A celebrity’s friendship.”

  May laughed at the ridiculous offer.

  “Laugh if you want but I’m offerink a celebrity favour from Billy.” A classic response from a rich person believing the world revolved around them.

  “Better than nothink,” I responded mimicking the ink pronunciation. I was simply happy to be together with everyone pursuing the nightmare issue. It was all about belonging and uniting against an adverse force.

  “Wow, I have a funny friend,” Billy chuckled to himself and gave me a geeky thumbs up.

  “So what’s the rest of the story?” Cadet looked for me to continue.

  I straightened up, comfortable by the intrigue presented by Cadet. “I found Billy backstage and mentioned how his video resembled a disturbing nightmare I had as a child. Next thing I know he throws me out.”

  “What?” May shrieked, appalled by the reaction.

  “He caught me off guard. What was I supposed to do?” Billy defended his brash actions. “You know I deal with a lot of freaky fans.”

  “Ah, Mister-Tons-of-Bodyguards can’t protect himself,” May mocked in a baby tone.

  Billy bit his lip, trying to remain calm. “I’ll let you have this one.” And it ended at that.

  “Well, in all honesty, Billy did come back to get me and we finished our conversation. Next thing I know, he invites me to his place and we e-mail the other two.” With my finger, I pointed to May and Wolfgang. “So looking back at this, I was partly responsible for bringing the group together.”

  “Hello, don’t forget me. I took a major risk in makink the music video about that crazy dream about the steamboat.” Billy rubbed his knuckles across his chest.

  I opened a palm to Billy. “And Billy did his part.”

  Cadet nodded, amazed by the regale.

  40

  The sunlight stretched out from high overhead as we drove north on the highway. A slight detour around a heritage house built over eighty years ago signified the boundary between the city and the next municipality. The home was a welcomed sight as its bright pastel exterior complemented the multi-diverse landscape—others saw it as a sore-thumb diverting attention from urban sprawl and deforestation.

  Passing the outskirt of the city, Cadet seemed to relax and bore a devious grin for the ride. He cleared his throat. “Do any of you have siblings?”

  May twisted in her seat. “We had this discussion before. We’re all an only child.”

  “I thought so. So am I,” Cadet confirmed the coincidence we unearth during our first gathering.

  Any suspicions of Cadet were put to ease. He knew what was going on. He understood our dilemma, through and through.

  “Do you watch any TV?” Billy asked, making some chitchat.

  “I watched enough TV as a kid and look where it got me,” Cadet summarized his voyage to homelessness.

  “Is this reversible?” I deeply wanted to know.

  “I don’t know except I stopped having nightmares when I was nineteen years old,” Cadet answered.

  “Sorry to jump in. I have two questions. Why choose to do a brainwashing experiment on a large city and not the typical small town like in the movies and what is your real name?” May challenged.

  “I leave the second part of the question for Billy,” Cadet diverted, the personal question.

  “Don’t worry, give me some time and I’ll remember it,” Billy reassured.
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  “For the first question, I think I know why. If the project was uncovered, it was believed that fewer suspicions would arise. Who would believe that an experiment of this magnitude could be pulled off in a large city?” Cadet waited for response, a reaction to the incredible story. “There may have been more risks in setting it up but the proof of the existence of it could be easily dismissed if it ever came to that extent. The public would dismiss it as another hoax perpetrated by conspiracy buffs.”

  “That remains to be determined,” Wolfgang disputed, knowing the power of the leverage stored in his wallet.

  “I was never brainwashed,” Billy dismissed. “Strong will.”

  “Strong will? And your band name Tank ‘n’ Wind didn’t come from Tank Rider?” Cadet countered with a word association.

  “Hey! I’m no patsy,” Billy defended agitated by the remark. His lips thinned out bitter by the very idea of someone challenging his work.

  “Who cares about a band name? We’re here to rally against the enemy. To out those responsible and hold them accountable.” Wolfgang released with a vicious undertone—a remnant of years of built-up hostility.

  “I’m on your side,” Billy declared.

  In what could be best described as the teaming of two opposing forces, Billy and Wolfgang stood side-by-side on the same issue. They both felt emotionally united against this television conspiracy. And what really mattered were not the differences in opinions but that those to blame were exposed.

  “Let me make it simple for you to understand. Your life is like a bee stuck inside a glass container, constantly striking the glass barrier trying to get out. The bee buzzes around and repeatedly strikes the glass because it cannot see clearly how to get past the barrier.” Cadet added to the analogy by smacking one hand against the other. “Meanwhile, there is a tiny opening to escape but the bee never does escape because it looks everywhere except where the opening is. I know where to look and how to escape.”

  “Are we goink there now?” Billy asked.

  Cadet nodded. “Keep heading north on the highway.”

  “Good.” Billy never diverted his attention away from the highway.

  Energized from the revelation, May bounced up from her seat. She was looking like she wanted to spin this into a public exposé.

  Wolfgang reacted differently. Arms crossed across his chest, he pondered everything like a detective scrutinizing every detail—an emotional limbo of the mind and body. It was like existing in a bubble watching the world unfold without any emotional attachment.

  For me, there was a level of comfort to be going to a destination. Be it unknown to exactly what we were going too. More details would be nice.

  “I infiltrated a military compound as a recruit at nineteen and worked my way up the chain of command,” Cadet explained in a vindictive attitude. “During my stay, I came across some classified documents about an experiment sponsored by a secretive corporation that took place during the thirties on military personnel and non-military personnel humorously dubbed involunteers by the scientists. The experiment comprised of projecting subliminal messages within a movie. The corporation later had it expanded to a TV show using some obscure military device devised as a means for war efforts. The purpose or desired effects was to produce nightmares that would teach the individual to submit through fear or another emotion connection especially during the heat of a battle. If the project failed, then they could be in turn used on the enemy as a counter morale attack.”

  “How could a corporation sponsor this project?” Wolfgang scratched his beard.

  Cadet nodded yes. “The experiment seemed to go well for the short-term as people slept less and were more aware of their surroundings. However, this was really short-lived. Stronger long-term side effects soon became evident. The major setback was the human guinea pigs lacked the ability to focus or concentrate on simple tasks. Others exhibited alcoholic tendencies piled with inferiority, loneliness, and rage complexes.”

  “That’s garbage.” Billy cringed his forehead, dissatisfied by the implications.

  I for one understood the inability to focus on a simple task as remembering the details behind the hit-and-run. It was not my fault.

  “Drugs were used to offset these tendencies,” Cadet continued, “but this led to more complications. In the end, the experiment was abandoned.”

  “Do you know for a fact that the experiment ended?” Wolfgang concerned in his scholarly way.

  “What!” Cadet replied in astonishment. “Of course. I saw it with my own eyes. Stamped across the documents in bold, PROJECT TERMINATED.”

  I propped my head up. This atrocious experiment also included children. “What about children? What were the side effects found on them?”

  “A small study was performed on chosen group of children in hopes of adverting some of the side effects. Children chosen under the age of nine were believed to be easier to mold,” Cadet explained. “A weak mind could be trained and manipulated easier.”

  “Like smoking, start them off young,” May summarized in repugnance.

  “Instead of alcoholism and adult complexes, children demonstrated vivid nightmares. This was all written down in the document but most of it was censored with a black marker making it illegible.” Cadet looked on serious. “I remember reading one particular comment written by an anonymous military psychologist. During the project’s initial conception and implementation, he postulated the project of using visual feeds as a means for a school program to teach the students especially children with behavioural problems such as hyperactivity. He referred to the mind as the final frontier and a great adversary worthy of extensive research by the military.”

  “How were the signals sent to us?” Wolfgang interrupted back. “Tank Rider was broadcast nationwide.”

  “True.” Cadet nodded. “But a separate, extra signal was fed into the main signal for the chosen children. I don’t know if the broadcasters were aware of this as the signal had to be intercepted and later combined with a TV show. It simply had to be a show geared towards children. My guess was an extra signal was added to the feed.”

  “Do you have more details on this?” Wolfgang asked disenchanted.

  “The documents only had bits and pieces of information on the children.” Cadet seemed to apologize for not retrieving more data.

  “Do you know how were we selected for the experiment? Randomly?” I wanted to know more.

  “Yeah, I remember reading something on this.” Cadet thought hard. “Children were screened somehow. The basic criteria were children who lacked motivation and were doing poorly in school. I guess a third criterion was a family with a single child.”

  Cadet’s words described my life to a tee. My school grades were always below average. I lacked the drive to move forward and I was an only child in my family. My life was dictated by emotions and actions that never belonged to me. The mental stress added by this experiment has altered my individual nature. Feelings of perpetual distress and insomnia were not the road intended for me; I wanted the chance to live it freely.

  “I’m sorry but I can’t believe this travesty. It’s just too much to bear,” May doubted. “I had bad grades in elementary school but I improved because I tried and applied myself.”

  “I was in the same boat while in elementary school,” Wolfgang acknowledged. “As I grew wiser to my follies, I dedicated myself to extracurricular reading and subsequently to my studies. In university, I earned my Doctoral degree before most had their Bachelor degrees.”

  “I did badly in school no matter where I went. Havink a music career was my choice and my success. I started young playink instruments,” Billy affirmed proudly. “No subliminal message could make me do that.”

  “I think the point is being missed here. Children should never be sacrificed like this,” I explained passionately. “Children have a whole life to lead and have enough problems as is without some military force interfering with them.”

  “Hey, it’s
happened before. Without any prior consent during the mid-nineteenth century, the American military scientists tested radioactive material on human subjects. It’s all about the good of the many at the sacrifice of the few,” Cadet rationalized using a take on the old adage where the end justifies the means.

  “Any human life should never be sacrificed like this,” I added. “Lives are not to be decided by any scientist.”

  “We should go after the corporation that sponsored this,” May spoke, annoyed by the thought of a bottom line dictating freedom.

  “No, scientists are to blame,” I redirected the issue to main point of pain.

  “There are always good and bad people in every field,” Wolfgang defended his colleagues. “It’s possible that the scientists could have been forced to perform these experiments.”

  “Forced? Come on! Don’t tell me you believe in this.” Billy clinched his fists, not satisfied by Wolfgang’s opposing stance.

  “I’m not defending them. It’s just that … I just don’t know who is to blame right now. I lost a lot to this too.” Wolfgang lowered his head down.

  “Our lives have been dictated by a bunch of greedy scientists!” Billy angrily stated. “What kind of free country is this?”

  “Nobody can ever live a free life in this country,” Cadet pointed out. “The laws govern us to act and behave within a certain boundary. Freedom is only a metaphor for an unachievable dream. Believe this. Laws dictated my life in a junkyard. I was confined to beg for food and that brought me plenty of police trouble.”

  “That’s garbage,” Billy spat out. “We’re free to fight back.”

  “I agree with Billy,” May sided. “We’re not free until our voices are heard and we expose the unprincipled culprits who did this to us without our permissions. We put an end to this kakistocracy.”

  Cadet raised a hand to silent all so he could talk. “I have a plan to get evidence for this project. I can show you something up north. If we continue this way, we’ll approach a military base where this all started.”