The Birth of Dystopia

by A. Q. Moser

  Billy leaned sideways and retrieved a crumbled yellow paper he had stored in his back pocket. “I borrowed it,” he defended, knowing he had been caught red-handed for stealing.

  “Like you borrowed my e-book? Don’t worry its empty; I left it there in the open so you wouldn’t trash my place.” Aerial remained one step ahead of Billy and Wolfgang and their impromptu break-in.

  Moving uneasily in his seat, Wolfgang had a guilty look like he was just slapped in the face. Billy had no problem with his involvement.

  Aerial stretched out the crumbled paper in the middle of the kitchen table for all to see. “The number six is linked to the first dream and the red slash across it represents the item is complete. Our first dream was about a steamboat docked to a port. Along the harbour was a wooden beach boardwalk lit by old-fashioned lampposts bearing candles. Huddled together under one of the lampposts were five people with the sixth person in the form of the light itself.”

  Nearly falling off her chair, May perked up in excitement at the use of the list to convey a message. Billy and I came to the same conclusion earlier while driving in the SUV.

  “How many stripes were on the chimney stacks on the steamboat?” Billy tested.

  “That is a trick question. There was only one chimney stack and on it were three colours. Going red, white, red.” Aerial was sharp.

  “So you’re the sixth member?” I asked.

  “No, Sammy is.” Aerial clarified by pointing to Cadet. “We met before you met Sammy. Like our first dream with the six individuals, we’ve become a united group of six people.”

  “Yeah I guess so.” Billy seemed to have been persuaded, despite his earlier conviction that he could not trust Aerial.

  Aerial smiled knowing she touched Billy in a logical sense but she did not dare stop now. “I presented May, Joel, Wolfgang and Billy a set of lists detailing individual events. In addition, I tried to match a specific word to your character. If you go back to what I wrote in your list and take the first letter from each point, a single word is spelled out. May yours is SOURCES, Joel is SEARCHES, Wolfgang is SCIENCE and Billy is SUCCESS.”

  Extraordinary. The demonstration of these skills was truly impressive. The effort put into this unique work showed how capable Aerial was.

  “I could tell you how unique our gift of communication is but I’ve something to ask especially since the topic of the last remembered dream was brought up. Is it safe to say you’ve all stopped dreaming?” Aerial posed.

  Except Billy, there was a unanimous nod to the enquiry. He was just being difficult.

  “Are you aware that the subliminal messages and the TV show stopped broadcasting nine years after it aired?” Aerial checked our recollection of a childhood television show Tank Rider.

  “I remember that I stopped watching Tank Rider at fourteen,” Wolfgang recalled.

  “Five years later the subliminal symptoms subsided for you at the age of nineteen. The dream Billy just described was unique to him. This unique dream set him apart from everyone else and from there he pursued his music destiny. I would like to make you aware that as you grew and achieved a higher level of individuality, your dreams became unique to you. However, you’ve also lost the ability to connect to the higher realm.” Aerial detailed the mystic connection she was alluding to earlier. “Let me explain further. May, what is your last dream you can remember?”

  “Mine.” May perked up in her seat. “I was nineteen and I remembered like it was last night. I was standing before a dense forest but the trees looked abnormal like they were intertwined with metal fibres. I know this sounds weird but bear with me. There was one tight path through the forest and I moved ahead like a chess piece in big steps. I made it to an opening and in the middle of the opening was an aluminium flagpole waving a flag decked out in camouflage green. It was weird because the flag was pointing to me as if inviting me somewhere. At the base of the flagpole was a smudged newspaper clipping. As I tried to decipher the article, I was tossed out of the forest. Only to be wakening up in the middle of the night for the last time.”

  “This is a unique dream and at nineteen too. Are Billy and you the same age?” Aerial checked.

  “Yes, we were in the same grade in high school,” May answered with spunk. She was content at the progress of the powwow. “Cadet and Wolfgang are also our age and Joel is three years older.”

  “Cadet?” Aerial was confused to whom May was referring too.

  “You know him as Sammy,” May explained since Cadet disguised his name at the séance.

  Cadet smiled. “It’s my real name. Now you know.”

  Discovering his real name was intriguing but I was so use to calling him Cadet that it sounded weird to call him anything else.

  Aerial was pleased at the genuine level of cooperation. “And what do you think this dream meant to you?”

  “I took this dream to mean that the forest was the junkyard and the camouflage flag was Cadet’s military background. I believed Cadet was one of us.” May looked to Cadet and brushed his forearm as a signal of trust.

  “Good. And you Sammy?” Aerial switched to Cadet.

  Cadet eyed the brownies before registering he was next. “I would like to share how my whole life I was picked on. Children would taunt me for my skinny frame and bullies would beat the crap out of me. This went on in school and in the army. I never understood why someone would inflict pain on another human being. I don’t think I never had a real friend, let alone a girlfriend. I’d always wished someone would walk a mile in my shoe because then they would understand where I was coming from.”

  “We’re your friends,” May sympathized to Cadet’s sufferance.

  “I’m sorry,” Billy garbled under his breath.

  Even though I heard it, I still could not believe it. Billy was apologizing for acting inappropriately.

  “I said I’m sorry,” Billy yelled out, realizing everyone was staring at him. “I’m sorry for kickink you and what I did to you in high school.”

  “That’s okay, it’s over. All this conflict has thought me to live as a self-sufficient person.” Cadet had a sincere sadness over his eyes. “I dropped out of high school because it got to be too much for me. I thought joining the army would make me tougher and teach me to fight back. Instead I picked up a nasty drinking habit. But enough of that. In my last nightmare, I was carried by a herd of friendly horses to a podium. Seated before me, were people wearing paper hats shaped into a boat. It’s like I had to make a speech before an assembly in an auditorium. But it was not an auditorium but an outside venue like the stands at a horse derby. I felt like I had to earn the support of insurgents and convince them to join my crusade. Before I could finish the speech, the people began to attack each other. In the melee, chairs were thrown and people were getting seriously hurt. Just when I felt like I was all alone and couldn’t continue, the herd of friendly horses returned and I escaped with them. I guess you’re the horses.” Embarrassed for revealing a personal side, he crossed his arm as if giving up on anything more he had to say.

  “We’re your friends, even if you think we’re horses,” May encouraged, wiggling about in her seat.

  “I’ll be your horse friend too,” Aerial offered with a smile.

  “Cadet, I’ll be your friend too,” I offered. “I don’t have many friends myself.”

  Delighted by the offers, Cadet smirked. Feeling more comfortable, he ate a brownie and he smiled more so.

  “Since Cadet feels better let’s move to the next person. Joel, please explain your last nightmare.” Aerial turned to me, attentive for my story.

  “My last nightmare was two nights ago.” Recovered with a perfect sleep, the insomnia seemed a distant pain.

  “So,” Billy interjected, “your dream was to stop dreamink?”

  I did not dignify the disruption with a remark but instead remained focused on what I had to say. “The nightmare began with water dripping out relentlessly of a faucet as if forcing its way out. The drops re
flected everyday stuff like a TV and a family. But as time goes on, the integrity of the family was under attack by some sort of cancerous shadow. The child was crying, its total chaos. I was watching unable to help. The shadow became a man in a lab coat.”

  “Tamme,” May shouted, making the connection between my nightmare and the scientist. She calmed down and sat still for once.

  “May’s right. I dreamt about Tamme before we met him.” My mind opened as if I could see beyond the fear of the nightmare. It was like peering at drinking water with the aid of a microscope for the first time to see living organisms frolicking in the water. There was a message in the nightmare but I could not interpret it.

  “Tamme? Who is that?” Aerial revealed.

  Trying not to draw too much attention to the matter, Billy shrugged his shoulders to the question. No one else volunteered any clarification on the fact that we kidnapped the old man and stowed him in the basement.

  Oblivious Aerial made nothing else of our knowledge on the subject of Tamme.

  “What about your dream about the two doors?” May switched topics, remembering my late night telephone call to her.

  “Yeah, that one I had the night before, Friday night.” This was another distant pain for me. “I was thrown into a long hallway with locked doors everywhere. There was a voice calling out that the way out was straight ahead. As I continue down the hallway, it felt like people were studying my every move. I finally reach the end of the hallway only to be faced with a choice between two doors. The left door has a doorknob shaped like a goat’s horn while the right door has no doorknob instead I can read the first letter of each sentence as P, A and M. As soon as I was done reading it, I was pulled out of the hallway.”

  Connecting to my story, Aerial sat back in the chair as if the nightmare meant more to her than to me. Her head was tilted up as if thanking God.

  “What does this mean? Who’s Pam?” May said, putting the letters together.

  “I don’t know a Pam. Did you have the same nightmare?” I inquired Aerial, seeking a link to its meaning.

  “No, I never did.” Aerial squinted her eyes. “But I know who the letters belong to. My old name was Miriam Powers.”

  “Miriam Powers?” May perked up in her seat. “Your name is Miriam Aerial Powers.” She smiled. “Her initials are M A P or otherwise P A M backwards.”

  “Is this a coincidence?” I questioned, doubting my subconscious.

  “Joel, you’re more connected to the future than you realize.” Aerial described my nightmarish grief as something to be praised. “You need to have more confidence in your abilities.”

  Aerial had shown me a whole new perspective on my life. How I toiled and laboured over the repetitive insomnia not fully comprehending the underlying messages. It was like I lived my life with the confines of a dark, crammed cave only to realize there was more to see if I left the habitat.

  “Thank you Aerial. I feel I gained a new perspective of my life.” I hugged her because I felt she deserved it. She made me feel better about myself.

  “You’re so welcome.” Aerial beamed, flattered by my gesture.

  Tons of people have tried to help me, my parents, my friend Marie, and various doctors and experts. For what they did, it was a valiant effort but it was Aerial who showed me what truly was. I was liberated through knowledge and self-comprehension, both worth more than any manmade treasure. The nightmares had an additional appeal, our solidarity. Our strength was appreciating what we have to offer.

  “Aerial, when we met you for the first time, you knew we had to seek out Cadet?” Wolfgang inquired as a detective closing in on a suspect.

  “I dreamt about it the night before,” Aerial explained. “All the items on your list are from my dreams. The military may believe they bestowed this gift to us but not every dream was programmed into us.”

  “I believe it,” May sided. “It’s a higher force than we can imagine.”

  “I’m not saying there is a divine force into play here but that the human psyche is a very complex and a very misunderstood puzzle. People are able to do things that are believed to be impossible and science has yet to resolve this,” Wolfgang rationalized. “However, I can’t explain all this foreknowledge.” He was still impressed by the connection Aerial had made.

  “Tell us about your last dream,” Aerial put forward.

  “Sure. My last dream was at nineteen, six years ago. I was stranded on an island with an active volcano. The smell of sulphur and methane gas was ever-present and increasing in concentration. In my possession was a precious amulet that could stop the volcano from erupting if I could drop the amulet inside the volcano. The problem was I was situated at the base of the volcano and the vertical climb was near impossible. To make matters worse, there was a village on the opposite side of the volcano. The trek was so long that I may not make it in time. So I was presented with two choices: warn the villagers to evacuate or scale the volcano and stop it from erupting. With costly time slipping away, I just stood there watching the volcano spurt out ash and lava. I felt so helpless.”

  As I could easily recall every detail in every nightmare I had, this one was unique to Wolfgang. This was truly a fascinating revelation.

  “What do you think it means for your career?” Aerial wanted Wolfgang to make the connection out loud so Billy could believe.

  “I chose science as my career. I’m an active assistant professor in the field of Microbiology.” Wolfgang had a look of eureka and contemplated a move as if involved in a challenging game of chess. “It just dawned on me the significance of the amulet.” He reached back and placed his leather wallet stained with blotches of brown discolouration on the kitchen table. “Cadet and Aerial, I trust that what I’m about to show the both of you will be held in the strictest confidence. It represents my father’s lifeline because he sacrificed his life for what has been by my side since his death.”

  Puzzled by the display of the mundane item, Cadet and Aerial looked at each other unsure how to react. Little did they know that within that leather wallet was the precious proof that supports the claim of a master project undertaken by the military. This could be enough evidence to put away the guilty party involved in the Ameliorate project.

  “What is it?” Aerial ventured for an explanation of the significance behind the obvious rawhide wrap on the kitchen table.

  “My father obtained the items I’m about to show you by chance and his life was never the same.” Wolfgang nodded, not with sadness as before but as a man with honour and pride. He was emotionally stronger now and no longer did the weight of his father’s sacrifice press down on him.

  Wolfgang took a deep, smooth breath, poised to retell a scientific breakthrough in layman’s terms. “My father stumbled upon four items in a fuse box at my old home. These items fed into our TV cable box. This was how they transmitted the subliminal images into my house. My father went crazy trying to uncover where the items came from so much so he drank himself to death.”

  “I feel at a loss for such a hefty sacrifice,” Aerial empathized with grief.

  “Me too, I’m sorry for your loss.” Cadet offered his condolences.

  “Thank you for your concerns.” Without a second thought to what he was about to disclose, Wolfgang unfolded the leather wallet in full view of everyone and poured out the contents over the kitchen table. The tiny spherical ball with a sharp, rounded protrusion rolled around until finally settling next to the three thread-like wires.

  Undecided what to make of it, Cadet and Aerial moved closer to the token four pieces but never dared to touch it. Although it was the second time seeing the microchip, I was still impressed by the petite size and spherical nature of it. Like the tiniest atom impacting a bomb’s power, this microchip was monumental in its potential to impact the world.

  Wolfgang turned to Aerial. “We think the object is a computer chip of some sort. A very advanced chip. The amulet from my dream.”

  “That’s a computer chip?” Aer
ial cringed her nose as if immersed within an unbelievably foul stench.

  Looking at it first, Cadet then picked up the microchip and rolled it between his index finger and thumb. Using the kitchen light, he held it to one eye and gazed at it like a diamond dealer would scrutinize the colour and clarity of a gem.

  “What is it Cadet?” May noticed his lengthy examination.

  “I don’t mean to shock you but during my military duty I came across a separate document about an in-house built computer chip,” Cadet claimed.

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  “You’ve … you have more details about the microchip?” Wolfgang leaped with excitement at Cadet’s claim.

  The father of Wolfgang forfeited his life to unearth all he could about the creators and technology behind the microchip. Who could blame Wolfgang for getting all worked up about this information? So far, we knew the means for delivering the subliminal message, that is, a childhood television show. The concealed message induced the nightmares that plagued us since youth. If the military used this microchip, did they build it too?

  “Not that I have a lot of information on it but this classified document had an excerpt on a secretive corporation who was supplying the chip for testing.” Cadet shrugged, falling short with useful information in spite of the buzz he generated.

  “Oh.” Wolfgang signed with disappointment.

  Testing. Hearing the word testing sparked a connection. Like the cartoon light bulb lit up above an animated character. “The microchip is old now.”

  “Of course it is,” Wolfgang agreed.

  “I mean twenty years ago it was advanced but now it’s old. I think I’ve seen these in a computer magazine for the new computer TV’s,” I recalled. “It’s old but the technology was borrowed.”

  Technology was always ever-changing and if you did not keep up with the changes, you had that mystified look shared by the group. Despite dismissing my humble job before the likes of a rock star, a professor and a journalist, my experiences as a computer packager had its advantages here. I followed the computer trends reading about them in computer magazines and sometimes seeing them first hand. It was my job to know this stuff. The computer microchip was circuited in computer televisions, it was so clear to me. The old technology was the current technology. Without the cloudiness from years of insomnia, I could think straight.