The Birth of Dystopia
Page 47
“We do it now.” Billy concurred.
“We stand up and hold them accountable.” I added.
Deciding to face the enemy, we opened the SUV’s doors and exited it in unison as if we planned it this way. A strong downtown wind blew in our face and yet we held our chins up high. We had our arms pumped out to appear bigger than we really were. Stone faced, we formed a line at the front of the SUV, standing shoulder-to-shoulder all set to brawl at the drop of a hat. Trouble was brewing a mighty stew and we were willing to help stir the pot. All my life I wanted to confront the enemy and the opportunity was finally at hand.
Even though my exterior appearance may be interpreted as fierce and determined, I was more scared then if I were walking alone in the middle of the Amazon jungle at night. As fear mixed in with apprehension, I had the unpleasant pressure to urinate. The only thing I could fall back on was the support of two brave warriors Billy and Cadet; I would not ask for anyone else by my side.
Disembarking from the leading full-sized van, a tall man dressed in a pinstripe suit and a shorter man wearing a plain black suit. The troop count had three verses two; the odds looked to be in our favour. However, appearances could be misleading. The military were known to react to a hostage situation by positioning expert snipers on the rooftops of the adjacent buildings; each one prepared to kill us without a second thought.
Trying to think positive, I closed my eyes and prayed for a win. However, should we lose, at the very least, May has the chance to reach out to the Internet with the tell-all article.
“Hello chosen ones,” the taller man responded in a respectable martial voice; the kind of tone built up over years of practise as a stern drill sergeant. “Where’s Tamme?”
Obliging, Cadet turned around and strolled to the back of the SUV. He tugged the tired old man out and set him on his feet in front of us. Recognizing the two men across from us, Tamme muffled some words underneath the strip of duct tape.
Cadet clamped down on Tamme’s throat, prepared to choke the old man if the situation required it. “Stay back or else,” he instructed, setting the tone of the confrontation.
“We are not your chosen ones.” Billy was displeased with this classification.
“Fine. Gentlemen, please. We don’t need to act this way,” the taller man reasoned.
“Yes, I suggest we deal with this calmly,” the right-hand man seconded the motion.
“Let’s be real for once. Who are you guys?” Billy dictated.
“You can refer to me as Silvio, Director of the project,” the taller suited man proclaimed with an air of content.
Tamme struggled to free himself from Cadet’s grasp. Cadet responded by choking the old man till he whimpered in pain. “Remain calm and you won’t be harmed. Understood?” he whispered into Tamme’s ear.
Beaten Tamme nodded and hung his head low. Cadet loosened his grip over Tamme’s Adam’s apple.
“Please, let’s be reasonable and courteous gentlemen,” Director Silvio begged, seeing the distress of his colleague.
“We want to expose your atrocities to the public,” Billy directed a clear objective.
“We did nothing wrong,” Director Silvio’s sidekick spoke up.
Expecting complete cooperation, Director Silvio turned to his sidekick and delivered an uncompromising look to remain silent. The Director added to the stare down by putting his hands on his hips. His pinstripe blazer lifted open to reveal the straps of a shoulder holster hanging from an abdominal belt. As Cadet was also packing heat, the situation had the potential to end in gunfire.
Feeling he made his point, Director Silvio turned to us. “Gentlemen, I understand you feel you’ve suffered under the hands of the administration. You have a right to be upset. However, your hostage also has rights.”
“You got to be kiddink me. How can we trust anythink you say?” Billy disagreed.
“Given the circumstances, I don’t think you have much of an option,” Director Silvio threatened. His demeanour changed from a friendly advisor to a commanding officer.
“Tell us what we want to know and then maybe we’ll release the old man,” I negotiated, working up the confidence to speak up.
“Good one,” Billy murmured my way.
Articulating to the enemy was as easy it looked. I exhaled a sigh of relief. In hindsight, I should have been angrier in my pitch to deliver a more forceful message.
“Know?” Director Silvio chuckled at the very suggestion. “There’s nothing left but to forget about this entire ordeal and move on.”
“Come now.” Cadet refused to accept anything but sincere frankness. “We know what was done. How can we just let it pass us by?”
“Let’s not make the situation more difficult than it needs to be.” Director Silvio waggled a stern finger to every word, as if each syllable were set to a melody. “Corporal Sammy,” he pointed to Cadet, “what can I say about you that isn’t in any way discouraging. Shall I remind you of your past military misgivings? Four charges of lewd and disorderly conduct and one unsubstantiated account for treason, all leading to a dishonourable discharge from the very institute that delivered you from an unsatisfied life. Someone must have saved you from jail time.”
Seeing a different side of Cadet, Billy nodded approvingly to each account of Cadet’s rebellious misconduct. Come to think of it, I too gained more respect for Cadet—I was still not use to calling him by his real name Sammy. He was a brave individual who enlisted in the military to uncover the truth about the Ameliorate project.
“Why do you reminisce on my short stay under the watchful eyes of the military elite and not on the real evil done to us?” Cadet redirected. “What about those responsible for administrating psychological abuse to innocent children? Where’s the justice for that? Did you accept prestige and rank to overlook the situation while we toiled and suffered?”
With a perplexed look, Director Silvio raised the outside corner of his eyebrow. “What do you propose be done instead? If you feel you have been wronged, then why compound the issue. You broke into a military establishment and kidnapped a military personnel. What good can come of that?”
“Are you trying to stall?” the sidekick commented, pointing in our direction.
Although he wanted to help, the sidekick was met again by an unpleasant glance by Director Silvio to remain quiet. Ashamed, the sidekick stepped back and obeyed.
“I’m afraid your journey has led you astray,” Director Silvio concluded.
“What about the chip?” Cadet asked.
“A chocolate chip?” Director Silvio whispered dumbfounded.
“Yeah, that’s smart. Don’t pretend with us. The chocolate microchip in TVs,” Billy retorted like he wanted to smack Director Silvio in the back of the head.
“Bravo.” Director Silvio applauded our discovery as if this were a simulated war game. “I’m truly impressed gentlemen.”
“Enough pretendink. Tell us why, army boy,” Billy argued.
“The truth.” Director Silvio had such a dramatic pronunciation of the word truth that he seemed to be delivering a battle cry for all to hear. “Do you want a truth or the truth or any truth?” He acted out each word with the indication of his index finger as if the words were floating in the air.
Did Director Silvio really know what the truth was? Did he care? There was no response to his question.
“Here’s more. You owe us.” Director Silvio’s tone of voice became very serious as serious as a disciplinarian needed to be. “As chosen ones, you were all profiled and selected due to your poor test scores in elementary school. As such, a special chip replaced the feed of your dumb TV with a smart TV. In essence, you were shocked into action by imposing a miniscule amount of fear all by adjusting your REM cycle. This had nothing to do with creating soldiers out of children. Far from it. It was an emotional therapy through the subconscious in an effort to relieve hyperactivity and other outstanding child behaviours.”
Elevating modified behaviours? S
ince when was it wrong for children to be children? I had to take what Director Silvio said with a grain of salt. What exactly was the true truth?
“Gentlemen, you are where you are now because we made you a few notches better than everyone else,” Director Silvio contested. “We gave you an advantage over other children. What you perceive to have lost, in reality was bestowed as an extra skill. Just as in Greek mythology Prometheus delivered the gift of fire to man, we did the same for you.”
“Instead of being stupid, now we’re trained monkeys?” Billy inferred.
“Nnnoooo!” Director Silvio shook his head, bewildered by the misinterpretation. “You were destined to be of a lower calibre and, most likely, achieve a life of simple grudge work. With such little conscious effort on your part, the TV you watched helped you gain an edge over the others. TV increased your learning and literacy rate thus boasting your intelligence and creativity. Believe this. About eighty years ago, food and juice companies started adding Vitamin C to their products in hopes of reducing sickness all to make people healthier. Do I need—”
“Why?” I interrupted. “Why do we need to be helped? Who decided this for us?”
“Are you aware that scientists decided to add Vitamin C to food, fluorine to water, and the list goes on? Scientists are improving people’s living conditions and society continues to flourish.” Director Silvio raised his chin in the air as if he enjoyed pronouncing the word flourishes. “The project has bestowed eidetic memory to the extraordinary level of an autistic savant. Do you ever wonder why you can recall every aspect of every dream you ever had? Have you ever noticed that your school grades improved? Imagine the eradication of lazy youth attitudes and wasteful sleeping habits. Gentlemen, I’m not saying you owe the military for this gift but think about it. People would kill to have half the training you acquired for free.”
Needless to say, we were being portrayed as spoiled brats ungrateful for having a rich daddy. It made me totally sick to my stomach. An artificial advantage of this nature was no advantage at all. Despite Aerial’s efforts to look past the experiment and see the good in the bad, the fact remains that there was no choice in the matter.
“There was no excuse to use innocent children.” This choice by the powers that be troubled me greatly. “Sorry, but your tyrannical manipulations are beyond any reasoning.”
“Young children were chosen and recruited to demonstrate the full benefits of the project. There were some drawbacks but the positive outcomes far outweighed them all.” Director Silvio still associated the project as a huge favour to us.
“We don’t believe it,” Billy objected.
Director Silvio was unmoved by the objection. “Believe what you want to believe.” He looked back to the vans.
Deploying a secret signal, the cabin side doors to the two full-sized vans slid open. Eight emotionless men wearing black suits emerged, four from each van and lined up behind their Director.
In an instant, the opponent outnumbered us, a common tactic employed by the military to contain the situation. My nervous heart skipped a beat. The third dream had come to fruition; a chase by evil vampires in black suits out for blood.
“Time is on our side, not yours,” Cadet replied, seemingly waiting for them to make the first move.
Noting our advantage of this parking lot situated in downtown Toronto to our opponents was a demonstration of deliberate positioning. This was a public forum where commuters could witness any retaliation should the military take a physical stance against us. The waiting game was to our advantage.
“Come with us, gentlemen,” Director Silvio offered, expecting a kind gesture to assist in the negotiation. “We can go somewhere more private.”
“No, that’s not on our terms.” Cadet was not willing to budge from a secure, public place. “You should know better.”
“Gentlemen, what do you want from me exactly? Do you want me to go on TV and declare there was a grave injustice cast upon you? Are you going to charge the military with making you a triumph when otherwise you all would have failed in life?” As if following a military protocol to try reverse psychology, Director Silvio persisted to portray the project as a success.
“You know what your problem is,” Billy jumped in. “You! Will! Pay!” He etched out each word as if he were reading them from a checklist. “You’ll pay for treating us like some lab rat.”
“The famous Mister Billy Coax Dangal. You have experienced success beyond your wildest dreams,” Director Silvio identified with a grin. “Why are you going to throw away your entire career? Just accept the fortune of the dices. Gentlemen, the gods have looked favourably upon you because you are the chosen ones.”
“What’re you tryink to butter me up? Cause you ain’t gettink any sympathy from me, not at this moment, not ever.” Billy choked his words out irritated by the downplaying of his hard work towards stardom.
“You added the subliminal technology to make people addicted to TV,” Cadet argued, “and that is wrong.”
“No, this was definitely not our intention. TV addiction was always there. Look at the history gentlemen.” Director Silvio pointed to some imaginary horizon with his outstretched arms. “Let me ask the three of you a question. Do you curse regularly?”
“What games are you tryink to play here?” Billy reacted in frustration.
Growing agitated by all the wordy roadblocks Director Silvio, we were all unsettled by the mind games thrown our way. He was like a troubled delinquent trying to find wild excuses and weird explanations rather than face an opposing view.
“Gentlemen, it’s a simple question. Do you swear at all?” Director Silvio looked restless, as the situation seemed far from being resolved.
Being unsure, no one dared to respond. From my standpoint, I was not one to curse by nature. There were better words to use to communicate effectively than with the use of vulgarity.
“I gather from the lack of a response that the three of you never thought about this before. You have been taught not to communicate with swear words. Imagine people capable of conversing without any misinterpretation from either side. How many wars could be thwarted by such a higher life skill?” Director Silvio nodded as if he was gaining some sort of advantage over us.
“You can’t justify what you’ve done to us?” I refused to accept Director Silvio’s one-sided look at the enormous benefits. The ends never outweighed the means.
“Fine gentlemen.” Fed up, Director Silvio cracked his neck, twisting it laterally. “This is what I think. Your chances grow dimmer by the second over any possibility to resolve this. You leave me little choice in the matter at hand.” He spoke with the clarity of an ultimatum delivered by a nuclear country to an uncooperative inferior country.
Unfaltering, the military standoff was tense and emotional in every respect. Not that I was up to surrendering under any threat, just that the thought of darting across the parking lot in a cowardly attempt to escape was tempting. The only two things working to our advantage was our hostage Tamme and the parking lot was filling up with a stream of commuters driving in to park their cars. The public would be our witness.
The three of us looked at each other as if seeking moral support. Billy had his fists drawn and seemed intended on wanting to head over to their side and fistfight it out. Cadet appeared less poised than Billy. His turtleneck shirt showed sweat stains around the collar and under the armpits. There was even a buildup of nervous sweat across his forehead. He released Tamme to wipe away the layer of perspiration.
On Tamme’s wrists, the wrapped duct tape had some slack to it; the result was most likely from the continuous exposure to human sweat and deliberate stretching. The looseness was enough so that it offered the opportunity for the old man to retaliate. Freed from his duct tape shackles, he delivered the pointy end of his elbow into Cadet’s midsection. Cadet hunched forward and winced in pain. In a continuous swoop, he surprised Billy with a hammer fist to the right cheek. Billy jerked back in sheer pain.
Needing our prisoner back, I chased after the old man. Billy regained his composure and joined me in the pursuit.
“Stop him,” Cadet yelled out in a manner befitting of a police officer chasing down a fugitive.
Equalling a young sprinter, Tamme had made up the thirty feet gap between the military duo and the SUV with just a couple of leaping strides. It was too late. He was too fast; he got away. I stopped in nomads land, discouraged by how the event had unfolded. The upper hand in the negotiation process had slipped right through our fingers.
Old man Tamme clung to the pinstripe blazer of Director Silvio, enjoying his hard-fought liberty. Tamme appeared to reach in under the Director’s armpits and hug his liberator. Director Silvio seemed unimpressed by the showiness of the old man but allowed it to happen.
“No! He got away.” Billy rubbed his swollen right cheek. “Let’s get out of here before they get us.”
Forecasting it earlier, Billy was absolutely right about the power of the military. If they wanted too, they had the power to seize us and toss us inside the vans never to be heard of again. As if reaching for an imaginary rope to pull myself away, I swivelled my upper torso and retreated back to the SUV.
Like lightning had struck nearby, a loud cracking sound projected from behind. Billy skipped a nervous step as he jittered to the ear-splitting noise. Despite wanting to return to the SUV, I could not move any more as if held back by an invisible force. Billy turned to face me, staggering to a stop. He reached out with his arms as if to catch me while expressing a deep pain in his eyes.
In session, two more debilitating sounds followed and then accompanied by a mixture of heated shouting. I turned my head to see what was going on behind me. Director Silvio had knocked Tamme to the pavement and retrieved the handgun from the hands of the old man.
Before I could register what had happened, my legs seemed to be glued to the asphalt parking lot. I stretched out a hand for help. Nothing felt more wrong than what was wrong with me. A warm surge blanketed by body only to subside and be replaced by a winter chill. The tightening soreness in my back stung brutally causing me to wobble and drop to one knee. Spinning with delirium, I seemed to have lost my focus and comprehension as to what was going on around me. It was like being caught up in a theatrical production of random artistic montages unsure what the underlying message was.