In Tune

C H A P . 3

 C H A P T E R    T H R E E

Day Three, November 2152

–
"Better a diamond with a flaw than a pebble without."

Confucius

–

"What's that you're reading?" Asks Archer the next day when he spots me reading Beyond Reality instead of eating my lunch. My plate of spaghetti and meatballs remains untouched, getting cooler the longer I stay nose-deep in the book, completely ignoring my food.

I look up and place a bookmark in between the pages before closing the book. "Oh, this?" I show it to him. "It's a book."

He raises an eyebrow. "A book? What the heck is that?"

I shrug. "I dunno, but it's cool."

He eyes me for a moment, before saying, "Oookay..." and returning to his conversation with Zeke about Mrs Berger's crazy hair this morning.

I tuck my book away and begin picking at my food, not feeling very hungry today. The doors to the cafeteria swing open with a bang, surprising my lunchmates and I, but this time, it's not some deranged black-haired girl who enters in a terrified frenzy. Instead, it's Aleksander White and Diane Althea who hurry through the doors and rush to our table, struggling to ignore the hateful stares and disgusted looks thrown their way by the Flawless. Alek sits down in his spot and sighs. "I really hate Mr Lemmon. He's always keeping us after class and taking off precious time from my lunch period!"

Diane nods in agreement. "He's been holding a grudge against us ever since Alek corrected him that day in September."

I laugh. "Mr Lemmon? That old man just hates us teenagers, especially since we always make fun of his name."

Alaska explodes in laughter. "But his name is just so... funny! How can we not laugh?"

Alek smiles sheepishly. "Once I asked him if he wanted some lemonade, and he turned beet red in anger. It was kind of funny. Okay, fine. It was really funny."

We talked for a while until everyone became obsessed with their food. Alek, the computer guy of the table, spent his lunch multitasking; one hand was bringing the fork to his mouth while the other was clicking away on his laptop. "Guys, check this out," he says to us, ten minutes before the end of lunch period. We all lean in to get a good view of his computer screen as he turns it around so we can see.

I squint at the screen, not understanding what is being played out before my eyes. It's a video which shows us the Perfectionists' residence: the Perfect House. I've heard of the Perfect House to be the ideal home from everybody's dreams. It's located on a secluded island with turquoise water, white sand and lush greenery. The trees are very different from those over here; they are tall, with large leaves and thin trunks. I hear they are called 'palm trees', and some of them even grow coconuts. The water is warm, sometimes even hot, a great contrast to the ice cold lake in my community. Surrounding the island are gigantic walls of steel similar to those around the communities that rise from beneath the water and are impossible to climb over. There are seven sets of these thick walls with underwater doors each heavily secured with waterproof, digital locks that explode if you get one of the different twenty-four letter PIN codes wrong. The Perfectionists are very important to Acenteta, which is why they must be sheltered 24/7 with the best protection.

Swimming in between the various walls of steel are hundreds of teenagers who each bear grappling hooks that they throw over the walls and use to climb over. Seven of them each stand on top of every wall, shouting orders to the other kids. They seem to be the leaders of this attack. Most of the teenagers are almost at the last wall when helicopters emerge from the clouds with Keepers wielding their trademark tranquilizer guns. They shoot with precision at the kids, always hitting their targets right on the side of their throats. Tranquilized teenagers drop into the water, and the Keepers make no move to rescue them from the sea. Eventually they'll drown in their unconscious state and go straight to Quietus.