Tales From Out of This World

10.The Problem

  Imagine a perfect world. The people of this world, so similar to Earth it was shocking, didn't need to. For them it was reality. Literally imagine our world, Earth, but absolutely perfect and up until a point, enforcers weren't even needed. Until a syndicate chose to fight against the perfection system. They strived to find imperfection in the perfect. In the perfect community, a new community secretly formed that called themselves, the Society. And so in the community, in the tunnels under its years of built civilization, they met together. Together where the enforcers couldn't find them. The enforcers that had learned through information ratted out by a spy in the Society. They filed in with their masks. This particular part of the tunnels, in the sewers of the perfect community, there was an abandoned sewer hub that served as a break room for the sewage workers far before the Society. Now it was the Society's hub. The last member shut the door behind, turning the locking wheel in place. Then he went to sit in the second farthest row of break tables and at a plastic chair, both in their quantity, were left in the sewer break in a blanket of dust. The room was packed, and Iago waited as a waitress passed by with a large plate of red wine and grilled cheese sandwiches. "What a combination!" the last member muttered to himself as he snatched a sandwich and wine glass. The waitress heard him, he could see that, but she didn't reply. Instead she went on, handing out her sandwiches and wine. He sat there, inspecting every corner of the room and observing all he could possibly observe. It was fancifully decorated in there like a Victorian dining hall with many smaller tables and lots of scarlet. And everyone wore masks that covered their faces. Some had mustaches, but only one wore a crown. The so-called king or figurehead of the Society. This one who started the meetings one cold December, wore a crown and since he started it, was elected as king. So everyone called him King James the first. If your face is covered at a masquerade, it's so proper that you must have an alias to go with it. So each member did. And amongst the mustaches, cold, blank eyes, the dresses they wore, the robes, the suits, the shiny shoes, and all other fabulous dresses, there were the Capulets, the Montagues, the Macbeths, Opelia, Shylock, Gertrude, Falstaff, and a man in the wear of a white ghost so pale. His mask, white, and his tunic so fading that the blue of it was gone from the fabric. Even his mustache was tipped white. There at his table, the latecomer, who was frequently called Iago, due to his impeccable honesty; he could never lie no matter how hard he tried, and his plain tongue. The man was simple minded in other words. He dipped into the conversation at the table as everyone did. They were all waiting for the king to speak out into his great microphone.
 "What happened last time? I felt ill  from food poison. I daresay I hope it's not from here. The chef makes the most exquisite cakes."
 "Falstaff, you hungry, fat knight! Is that all you think of?"
 "I think of other fat knights? I think you're wrong! I think of food and money! All the time, Heaven!" Falstaff took a bite of a chicken drumstick that was so greasy, it dribbled down his chin. He brought it from home. He did it all the time. Iago took a bite of his sandwich and a sip from the wine. Everyone was eating. Sipping wine, and sandwiches of the finest meat and the finest cheese. Food was still plentiful in their time.
 "Precisely! You are full of yourself, Falstaff!" Heaven spoke with a shrill voice like an angel. She even dressed like one in a sparkling outfit with makeup.
 "There are more important things, Heaven and Falstaff. Fat knight, you missed the biggest update of all so far. Remember last time that we came to the conclusion that we had four options. Yes, all right. Then the time after that, you missed nothing. All you missed was the blast-off, for one, quite literally, of each plan. Now today we will see the fruition of those plans. Will they stop perfection?" 
 "Will 'we' stop perfection, you mean, Benevolio? What were the choices, enlighten us? I think the fat knight might forget the details in all the leftovers in his mind." Benvolio, was a handsome man who was known for his peacemaking qualities. In coincidence, his peacemaking was centered on the Capulets and the Montagues. 
 "Indeed, Friar," Iago spoke up, not wanting to be the quiet, black sheep. That was them all now at the table. Last time everyone had been sitting with the others. Iago recalled Romeo and Juliet telling a story about copter races in the city and crime escalating to a point where odd humour was the criminals' fair way. People awoke without clothes because apparently in this day and age, robbers stole sleeping gowns and someone had an alarm clock taken from their bedside. 
 "Oh now I don't need to put up with that blithering, loud noise in the morning! What will we do, wife?" Romeo imitated the husband of the bell-snatched as Juliet giggled. Even Cesario and Shylock gave in to interest and a chuckle. Cesario the feminist who dressed like a man in short hair, and Shylock the old man. They were serious and stern. Then, they were younger and more alive than ever. Then the meal consisted of a veal and a salad. A wonderful salad. 
 "I recall it as well," Iago was stealing the young Benvolio's spotlight, "the choices. Ah, one was, probably the most memorable, was to destroy the sun."
 "The most memorable, and yet the stupidest of them all." Heaven, being the only female there at the table, was irrefutabley the brightest. Iago would argue. Just don't tell him. "If you destroy the sun, you destroy mankind."
 "Myth!" Falstaff spit out in globules of grease. None hit the late comer and he was thankful for he was the closest.
 "She is speaking truth, fat knight. I would very much like to tell the king of perhaps freezing it. Then to perhaps tell the astronauts that were sent there. What were their names?" No one remembered. It wasn't important anyway. 
 "They'll be there, Friar. Tell them after the meal and when the king, slowpoke at the microphone, I say get on with it already, starts speaking, yell at 'em."
 "Be respectful toward the king, late comer!" Heaven scolded as Iago looked a bit peeved. The Friar had a bald head with his mask, which was one of his resemblances to the character. Was he a real friar? Who knew.
 "They will be, no doubt. If we do die cause of it, that will be a problem. Last problem, eh? What about the other three? Robbing the biggest bank in the world and lead a money trail for the enforcers and dump a couple gallons of gasoline in the ocean, which let's be honest, no one likes that one." Benvolio with his handsome mask, and his twirled mustache wasn't wrong. No had been in favour of that idea but there were no others to replace it. That had been some masquerader Iago couldn't put his tongue to. 
 "And don't forget Lady Macbeth's idea. The idea everyone is in favour of. Besides the sun idea. But then again everyone here is suicidal for a problem. She wants to kill the president of the world. The king of the Society's king."
 "And it wouldn't be bad, Heaven. We overthrow the world. We overthrow the government. Ain't that a great idea? Not original like the others, but conventional enough."
 "Iago," she set him a stare, "she's a witch, don't listen to her!"
 "And you're not."
 "I would watch you say, late comer, she's got a forked tongue."
 "Thank you for that warning, Falstaff, it's been noted. I think that overthrowing the king might be the best way and we could become the government.  Blowing up the sun is dumb, and like the Society agreed as a whole, it would be last. If the others fail, then we blow it up. As for poisoning the waters of the world, this would help nothing."
 "Agreed," Heaven took a sip of the whitest wine ever seen as they all finished the last scraps of their sandwiches.
 "Poisoning the waters? I feel as though the environmentalists would have a big problem with that. Plus, let's not harm turtles, shall we? I like the turls!"
 "Except I do wonder, Ben, how does turtle meat taste."
 "Leave your stomach out of the idea!"
 "Okay, Friar."
 "This involves man only. I think though that since my way of life teaches of only perfection in a bliss, I joined the most secretive band of friars. We call ourselves…"
 "Don't say anything more Friar."
He kept his mouth suddenly closed. He had said a few too many words about himself that included him being a rebel in faith as well. Not a big spoiler, but still too much.
 "Oopsies. Like I was saying though, breaking into the biggest bank on the world is huge. Even for me. How did the king even get the best bank robber to do it? And how about the rest? How did he persuade the astronauts to arm their ship with explosives to hit into the sun? How did he even get a poison expert to go along with throwing chemicals into the ocean? And what about the president of the world? Who's a good enough assassin to do it? Think about it!"
 "We are." Iago, Heaven, and Falstaff ordered another round of wine from another waitress, slimmer than the  last.
 "We are all thinking. Before he speaks, the mike's coming closer, what do we each choose for the successful plan? Who's plan wins?"
 "And once we explain our picks and reasonings, let us cheer on it! I'll start first. There's no question about it. There's no way the enforcers will let us ruin their perfection so easily. We'll blow up the sun. You'll see it work.  They will see their perfection die in the mere short seconds we all do."     
 "And I must go with my fat belly, cause I can't imagine a world dead and without food, so I must declare my theory that robbing the biggest bank in the world, will be the successful one." 
 "How about you, Iago?"
 "I'll go last, Heaven. I want to see this play out so I can make my decision."
 "Very well, since Falstaff just went, it's the Friar's turn."
 King James was held to the side by a man in a robe and a sharply-pointed mask. There was a goatee at the very tip. "I think that the poisoning is beyond any more thought, and that destroying the sun would be quite pointless. Apologies, Ben. But I believe I will, according to the beliefs of sect, call upon the killing of the president. It would be, I believe a wrongdoing, but there can't be any of that here, so yes." They all turned to the late-comer.  
  "I…um… have to pick the assassination. We have had this president for far too long. May we have a new ruling and a government run by the Society. It sounds most villainous but I think we must rule the world!"
 "Very villainous, Iago. It is at this table, I presume that the others are voting as well, three for assassin's ploy, and one each for robbing the big bank, and blowing up the sun. Oh look, it's time to start our final results." The hurried talk between the masked man and King James the first was over in what everyone presumed due to the mouth at the king's ear, was urgent. There was something amidst and they were scanning the Society members at the tables. Voices welled up behind masks that didn't do well to keep words unheard. The five at the table cheered loudly enough to attract attention as they clinked their wine glasses together and took a sip. 
 Then, King James spoke in a loud, gripping, voice. "Good day to ya'll!"
 "Good day, king!" The whole of the room answered him.
 "I won't bother you with too much blabbery, but we all know today is the culmination of years of work. And yet it is threatened. I'll come to that later. Now, let's start by letting down the projector." Revealing a rectangular remote he let down a screen from the ceiling that had a projector some ways in the center of the ceiling. "Let me, before I show the live footage of all our trajectories, redraw each plan and their holders. Each piece of footage is by the professionals from our Society. That is right, without giving away much of their lives, we have had our very own in the big jobs for a very long time. Chemists and those who study the waters, the shadiest criminals who lie in shadow, the investors and those professionals in our currency world, and don't forget it, our astronauts, who will, if nothing else works, end it all. It's suicide, but maybe to stop this treachery on the world, we will have to do practically anything. I hope everyone has been having a fabulous day! The food and drink, as exquisite as always, I presume? We cannot let perfection reign! For if there are no ups and downs, things to improve upon, solutions to our questions, we aren't human. Now imagine if we were human as such. We would be imperfect and the world would not be a better place. It would be worse, much worse." There was a break ad he took a sip as everyone readjusted in their seats or took another sip. "This is the far worst, I'm sorry, Ariel, but your idea of poisoning the sea has been rethought upon. It's terrible. We aren't gonna do it. Instead as you see on the screen-" The waves bellowed and on a ship smack down somewhere unknownst to all, a sailor readied a barrel of what Iago could only assume as being poisonous bile. "As you can see we're still going through with it. But today, there will be now murders. We have substituted a new form of liquid that will ruin the water supply over time. We do this now and over the years we will pay the price, but so will they. It if it means to suffer for freedom, so be it. This form of liquid doesn't harm mammals and fish in the slightest. It does absolutely nothing, and as I can see by Falstaff's hand there, yes it's been tested. We are sure of its safety." The fat knight dropped his arm. "This idea has become undoubtedly one of our best ideas. Dr.Frigid. He's not a Society member at the moment,  but still has a code name. And he wears a captain's mask. Chilly out there, doctor."
 "I sure am a little chilly, James my boy."
 "Don't call me that. I am a man, like you."
 "Sure you are," the live footage answered back as the ship swung into closer view and an older man came into sight with everything he needed to make a virtual call. "It's a windy day for this, but we got  it coming. Not a name proffered yet, but me laddies tell me that consultatio is the perfect name for our situation. It's 'the problem' in Latin."
 "Know that very well, thank you, Frigid. I studied Latin for 18 years before deciding I had learnt enough. 
 "We have it ready anyway and whenever you give the call, we'll do it."
 "You say that with loyalty. What are your thoughts on the predicament of this new water substitute?"
 "Well it won't affect me now, will it? I don't drink water! Only drink rum, vodka, and basically whatever fisherman's medicine I can find."
 "But what about any daily use? You will be affected. You designed it. Are you okay with the destruction it'll bring? It'll mean drinking water until we get so sick, we'll die."
 "I know me own details. The world has gone on long enough perfect. Why be perfect? Being perfect eradicates all things that makes our live meaningful. I have no time for chit-chat, will we do this?"
 "It's not irreversible, is it?" someone at a front table inquired. The king submissed it and looked at the screen as everybody else did.
 "It's not. Once added to the water it'll stay there forever. Like said, it will take years to fully activate."  
Conversations and small talk formed amongst the tables as the first problem was set into progress.  
 "Enough of waiting, Frigid! Release it into the plunge!" The canister was gently placed in the waves and opened with a turn of a wheel. Blue spilled and spread out, and once the canister was emptied, it was pulled out. Then being set back on deck, Frigid looked back to the camera. His deckhand, the one with the canister, was wearing a smaller mask that was in a placid grin. 
 "There you have it. This one will take a few years to determine if it'll work."
 "Frigid! You were supposed to know that now!"
 "I'm sorry, James, but we wait." They obviously knew each other from beyond the Society.
 "We can't, Frigid! This is urgent, we have a problem!"
 "What's the matter?" Everyone moved to the edge of their seat. 
 "We have a possible spy in our midst."
 "And who informed you of this?" 
 "A friend," he glanced at the unnamed masquerader. 
 "Fine, James, but I can't tell you it'll work. Speculations say yes, though."
 "Society out!"
 "Frigid out!" As the livestream was canceled, everyone let out bated breath.
 "Who do you think it is?" Heaven leaned over.
 "Him," Falstaff pointed to the unnamed beside King James as he plucked another sandwich and wine from a waitress. The Friar and Benvolio spouted off a name each but since no one knew who they were, it was irrelevant. Even Iago stayed silent, wanting to insinuate the king but knowing that that was treacherous.
 "Then we'll go on to the next." The screen changed again with the press of a button and another man took the place of Doctor Frigid. This time there was no ship. Instead the bank robber was in an alleyway with no backup. "No backup?"
 "Don't need any, king! You should know this. Hey Society!" he waved. "I am the best robber here on this side of the world. I'll do this alone. Now stop bothering me!  Watch!"
 "And how about the money, Thresh? How are you gonna do it? Thresh answer me!" King James plored the bank robber about the heist, but he muted it. The Society watched as he typed a message to show up on the screen as he went further into the alleyway and to the back of the bank. 
 "Why isn't he going in?" Benvolio asked.
 Iago took his time to answer, but then when the bank robber pulled a flamethrower from out of a pack on his back, he knew exactly what was going to happen. "He's got some kinda hookup to a flamethrower! He's adjusted it to burn through the wall! A brick wall!"
They all pinned their eyes to the screen. The bank robber flared up the flamethrower with his sunglasses over his eyes. Burning with a high flame he was able to burn a hole through the wall. 
 "What now?" Iago voiced the excitement in his eyes. The robber was apparently still hooked up to the livestream. A new message showed up. The money in the biggest bank in the world is all digital. It has to be to contain it all. 
 "And…," Benvolio found himself saying.
 "And I've pre-hacked into the system, this job is too simple." The robber walked into the open vault, except it wasn't a vault. He had miscalculated. "Shoot!" Thresh exclaimed as he realized he had cut right into the break room. The Society shared his exclamation as the tellers and the banker inside bolted up toward a phone. Thresh went for his blaster and stood there, unable to pull the trigger. He wasn't a killer. 
 "It's going wrong," Iago whispered and those around the table affirmed this.
 "I'll straighten this out," Thresh promised through the screen. "I will," and then to the employees in the break room, "I'm not a killer. I just want what I came from."
 "Money, you greedy ass!" The banker yelled out as they stood there too, afraid to move. The bank robber waved his gun for them to bring the hands up. They did and he looked over the room. There was no way out except through the bank. And that was very risky; the employees he had met were already reaching for their phones. The enforcers would be here at any moment. Waving them to the far wall, he opened the door out and searched the hall. It was empty and so he put the blaster in his belt, depositing the flamethrower outside, and walked out of the break room.
 "He'll never make it," someone voiced our worst fears as he calmly walked like he belonged there.
 "Are you the new guy?" Tresh nodded.
 "Follow me," the teller said as she led him down the corridor, but on the way Tresh spotted the vault and wishing he had brought the flamethrower after all, spun the wheel. It spun a few times as the teller was nowhere to be seen. He was on the last turn when a gun was pointed at him. It was the banker from the break room.
 "You don't want to hurt me." The banker shook nervously, the gun not at all still in his hands. "Drop the gun, I'll leave you."
 "Leave here and I'll think about it."
 "Nah you won't, rookie! You're a scaredy cat! Give me the gun!"
 "You'll shoot me!"
 "I promise I won't! Where'd you get that gun?"
 "I stole-" In a flash the bank robber knocked the gun out of his hands with his blaster and knocked the banker on the side of the head. 
 "You're a robber too. Go figures!" He spun the wheel to the last and was finally in the vault. The vault in actuality, was a giant computer box with rows and rows of hard drives. Tresh didn't hesitate to go to a mass of wires and hard drives. For there, plugged in hiding, was a port. The USB was out and into the port, and pressing the sync option on a small keyboard, he uploaded the whole entire vault into one single, terabyte of storage. The USB uploaded it all as a thought coursed through the bank robber's mind. "This is too easy! Not enough obstructions!" 
To him it was a simple heist, but in reality it had been difficult to get this far. There had been security cameras, and more sensors lying about. There were two clicks behind him and he spun, noticing the hidden USB's completion light on. He had been expecting just the blaster and so when he spun around he flicked the gun out of the holder's hand. It was flung away but a flamethrower was instantly triggered and a burst of flame struck him hard, singing his hair, face, and the front of his jacket. King James was about to command the livestream to be recorded for unlikely evidence, but he soon learned that was impossible with this type of projection. Tresh let himself fall against the storage cubicle as he snatched the USB, putting a hand to his pocket, then to his mouth, and threw the flash drive to the tiled floor. Before the enforcers, close as they had been, were about to stop him, he let his foot down as hard as he could on the drive. It broke into several pieces and the enforcer with the flamethrower pushed the bank robber roughly to his knees. He pulled the gun out again, but that was briefly taken, and used to shoot Thresh in the foot. He howled in pain, the Society feeling it as well, as he dropped to his knees. 
 "You lose. Perfection wins!"
 "You lost money, enforcers," Thresh said bitterly.
 "But at least you don't have the money. We still win! We've heard of your lot. The Society." The enforcer stared at the tilting, stuttering live stream as he said it. "We'll find you. We'll be there soon." King James became tense.
 "You think they'll find us?"
 "They have already, masquerader." 
They went back to the screen. 
 "Oh well win, enforcers. We have already. This is imperfection, trying to stop us. Isn't imperfection, injuring somebody? Isn't this imperfection, how you're treating me?"
"I-" The advisor was unable to answer this as he found the camera that Tresh had used and had on him. Then the enforcers dragged the bank robber away as he gritted in pain. They were enjoying every second of this.
"So the enforcers are onto us?"
 "Guess so, Iago!" Falstaff had finally stopped eating and everyone had miserable expressions.
 "If they're unto us we're doomed. This is our grave. The first attempt will only be a waiting attempt, the second, useless, now the third. The assassination. The enforcers will have doubled the security."
 "Cross your fingers, Benvolio. This is the end of the Society," Heaven sorrowfully said as the king rushed into the next plan. 
Tresh's camera faded and the bank was replaced by a close-up of a large window of the president's house.  
 There was a rough-haired safeguard directly in front of the window that overlooked a yard of clean-cut, green grass. "Am I the first? I totally forgot, James."
 "Not the first. I see you're risking your disguise for the cause. How noble."
 "I don't have time. I'm so close and I'll be called in soon into the president's office. I'll get him alone and here's a secret, I'm wearing a mask under a mask." The spy relished in the idea that he knew more than the enforcers. He'd tell them how to find the perpetrator once this was done. 
 "Go on. Quickly, then. You're in the president's house. Don't talk then. Do it. Then come back and tell us the gory details of how the government was emptied of a crooked president." 
The assassin switched off the livestream and the waiting began. Dessert was served in the meantime; pumpkin cheesecake. And Falstaff of course, had multiple servings. The chef of this secret Society, had already learned that the fat knight would always come back for more. And he did, every time. The table was silent as they all enjoyed the dessert and as the other tables traded talk about what had happened. The livestream suddenly clicked on and the assassin was back. The masquerade was over but his fake face was still on.
 "I'm back. The deed's done. I've taken him out of the scheme."
 "Good. Never come back to the Society. You understand, right? And if you do, come back, put on another of your faces."
 "I understand the drill. And if you want to know how it went, well here's a short summary. I entered the office and we talked about his dinner date tonight and how he wanted me to be there and I told I had something important to tell him. Something about a secret organization that schemed against him. And I know what you're thinking, I didn't rat us out. It was a diversion of truth."
 "You could have jeopardized it."
 "I know, King James, but I didn't. I'm here now in a secure location somewhere in the city. Underground. They'll never find me here."
 "Underground? Close to the city? Do you know about our spy situation, assassin?"
 "We have one? Apparently. Someone has leaked our whereabouts and now the enforcers are soon upon us." The sewers' break room was silent and the tap-tap of a leak could be heard alongside the scurrying of a rat.
 "We are in jeopardy, assassin. I will keep this short. When was the last time you were here?" 
 "Sometime two years ago, in February. Why?"
 "February? We had a different meeting place then. It was almost compromised and we can't let this one fall into their hands. Where
underground are you? This is important." The masqueraders had a light panic in their faces. "Are you being followed? From what I know, they don't know where we are yet. This could ruin it. Could ruin it all."
 "I'm-breaking up."
 "Speak up then! Where are you? Where underground?"
 "In-the sewers. I'm in the sewers, King James. And you are all in an abandoned hall, right?"
 The king looked gravely at the assassin. Are you sure you killed him? Could it have been a trap?" The assassin was rushing down a corridor now that everyone faintly recognized. This meant trouble. Big trouble.
 "I killed him, yes. It was tight security, but they thought I was one of theirs. It couldn't have been a trap. It just couldn't. Where are you?"
 "We are in the sewers!"
 "What, no! That's my hiding spot." He cautiously searched the tunnels around. "I'm sure now. I hear footsteps. They're coming. The enforcers are onto me. I'll lead them out another way."
 "Too late, you've led them to our front door. You failed your last job." 
 "Here's an idea. Won't they find a new king after that that is just as bad? KIlling the president will be harder than that. He has children that can be passed the role." 
 "Not now, Benvolio," Iago quieted him as they concentrated on the livestream. "It's the truth. He's right outside of our door. Is there an escape route?"
 "Only one. A secret door. Behind one of the tapestries there." Heaven pointed to the far wall. 
 "I'm sorry, King James. I'll fend them off from here. Activate the safety precaution. We have no time! The Society must survive so we can one day fix the world. We have no-" The assassin outside traded a few shots off with the others until there was a loud bang to end it all. Those that wore hats, took them off to honor the death. 
 "He was loyal to the end!" The king honored him with his crown in his hands. Then, quickly showing the last round of footage, the footsteps got so loud that they could almost be heard. 
 "Mikey, you there?"
 "Yes, king," a static-y message came on the radio portion of the screen.  
 "We're ready to activate the explosives."
 "Fly the ship into the sun! Do it now! We can't let them win! The enforcers are on our doorstep! The plans are failing, they're failing. Do it now! Before when we still have the time!"
 "Very well, sir! I will do!" The footsteps were practically onto the door to the sewer break.
 Everyone stood up as the king instructed and rushed towards the tapestry. "Everyone, to the escape exit!" 
 "I'll go in first!"
 "Okay, follow Iago."
 "May we say our final farewells, Mikey. Has Trevor already started maneuvering it?"
 "He has sir. There seems to be a problem. We have a package here in the engine room. I don't understand it. It says: 'thanks for trying. You make for a good chase!'. Did you put this package here, James?"
 "I didn't, no," the late-comer led each table's worth of people through the secret door to safety.
 "Well then who did?"
 "Don't open it, Mikey!"
 "Open it-I'm sorry, connections breaking up. I'll do as you say. I'm opening it now!" The astronaut unwrapped the mysterious package. "We really have a problem! It's a bomb! The package is a bomb! The ship's been sabotaged! We'll explode before hitting the sun! We can't stop them, the perfectionists! We're doomed!" 
 Those were his last words as a great explosion rocked the ship and made King James' ears hurt. "We're doomed. We don't know if it'll work. Maybe it will." It was at that moment that the door was broken into and the enforcers swarmed in with their guns. "Don't do this! I beg of you!" King James had his hands folded like he wanted to pray. "Don't do it!" Iago, while the most terrible of things happened, led the few dozen survivors out. Only to fall into another trap. The enforcers were waiting there too. The Society was ending and as the spy got away, every member was slaughtered. That was a terrible, terrible event. It was genocide even. But it helped change the world. It became faulted, but regulated to a degree where it was controlled. Can a world like this even exist? A world regulated between perfection and imperfection?