Read A Land of Perfects Page 13


  Claudia giggled. “Hell, Derek, I’ll bet that even if we’re let out of these boxes, Abaddon here still won’t be allowed to touch us. How pathetic. Barks a lot but can’t even bite.”

  Abaddon’s green-and-blue eyes flared as he scowled at her.

  “I’m stronger and smarter than all of you put together,” he said. “My siblings and I are the next rung on the evolutionary ladder. I will be the end of the universe as you know it. Do you really think I need to snap your heads clean off your bodies to prove that?”

  “Obviously, no one said that,” Lucas shot back. “But since you’re still here and droning on about how amazing you are, compared to us, you’re clearly desperate for some kind of validation. You’re not going to get it from here, though,” he added, then looked at me and smirked. “See, Derek, that’s the trouble with kids these days. Only a couple of days old, and they think their strength and special abilities trump our centuries of experience.”

  I nodded, catching a glimpse of Sofia stifling a chuckle. “I know. It makes his whole ‘I’m smarter than you’ argument sound so ridiculous.”

  In what seemed like less than a millisecond, Abaddon was right in front of my glass box, inches from my face. He narrowed his strange eyes at me and grinned.

  “You know, most would be terrified of what I’ve just said,” he spat. “The end is coming, Derek. And it was only possible thanks to you!”

  That statement made me quiver, but under no circumstances was I going to give him any more satisfaction. He’d gotten enough from the first five minutes of our mostly one-sided conversation, until it all truly sank in for us.

  “No, Abaddon. That kind of crap doesn’t scare me,” I replied, inching closer and keeping my chin high. “Do you want to know why? Because I’ve heard it all before, more than once. There’s always that one gifted idiot out there who uses his powers for all the wrong things. It always—mark my words, Abaddon—it always blows up in your face.”

  “You think this is the first time we’ve dealt with captivity and creatures who think they’re better than us?” Sofia added, moving closer to my side of the box. “We’ve done this dance before, Abaddon. And we always walk out alive and victorious, because we have something the likes of you may never experience.” She sighed. “We have love uniting us.”

  Claudia scoffed. “Way to get sentimental at the last minute.”

  “It’s true,” Vivienne said, as Abaddon’s gaze darted around. He seemed alarmed by our calm demeanor and obvious determination. “Love has always pulled us through. Heck, love brought both Lucas and Kailyn back from the dead. Quite literally, I might add.”

  Lucas smirked. “Listen to me, Abaddon. I was once like you. I thought I was the smartest beast out there. But the universe has a funny way of knocking you back on your ass, you see. You can’t outsmart the universe.”

  “That’s where you’re all wrong,” Abaddon hissed, his hands balled into fists. “Ta’Zan is the new god in this world. He made us Perfects. He is going to rid the world of anything that’s beneath us, because the universe deserves better!”

  “And who is Ta’Zan to determine what the universe deserves, huh?” I shot back. “He’s but a creature, another sack of meat and bones with cognitive abilities. That’s all.”

  Isda groaned as she struggled to get up. “You’ll have to forgive Abaddon,” she murmured, holding her side. “He isn’t one of Father’s brightest. It’s why he can’t leave this place and has nothing better to do than to come here and tease you, even though it’s forbidden.”

  “I told you to mind your tongue, vermin!” Abaddon snarled, then kicked her again, this time right in the solar plexus.

  It knocked the air out of her lungs, leaving her barely conscious.

  “You think you’re superior to us, when you treat your own sibling like that?” I snapped. “You’re pathetic, Abaddon. Picking on those weaker than you. It’s embarrassing.”

  “I’m a Perfect, Derek. She’s a Faulty. Not my sister. She’s a servant, at best, and she needs to learn her place!” Abaddon growled. “I do what I want, whenever I please, and no one can—”

  The cave door opened once more. The clang reverberated through the chamber.

  Abaddon froze, his eyes wide and fixed on me. Isda stared at the figure that came in. I instantly recognized him—Ta’Zan. I’d memorized the long gray hair and his strange eyes. He’d passed that feature on to Abaddon, it seemed. One eye green, one eye blue. Ta’Zan was definitely using his own genes in crafting these Perfects.

  As soon as he stepped into the light, Abaddon turned his head to look at him.

  “Father, I—” He tried to speak, but Ta’Zan cut him off.

  “Abaddon, you’re not allowed to be in here,” he said, as calm and cold as the first time I’d met him.

  My blood froze, and my temperature dropped, as I took several steps back and moved closer to Sofia. I couldn’t touch her, but I felt a whole lot better if I was near her. Isda moaned from the pain, trying to breathe evenly.

  Ta’Zan came forward, looking at her as she lay on the ground.

  “I’m sorry, Father. I was curious, and—”

  Abaddon tried to speak again, but Ta’Zan wouldn’t have it. He scoffed and shook his head.

  “What did I tell you about breaking the rules, Abaddon?” Ta’Zan asked, his tone clipped.

  The Perfect lowered his head in shame. I could see muscles twitching here and there, even through the layers of white silk. He was nervous and extremely tense. “Breaking the rules may incur the death penalty, if deemed appropriate,” Abaddon murmured.

  Ta’Zan measured him from head to toe, then took out a small glass vial filled with a glimmering green liquid. As soon as he held it up in the light, Abaddon squirmed and moved back, terrified and breathless.

  “I specifically told you to treat the Faulties with more respect, and to not set foot in this chamber,” Ta’Zan replied. “You went ahead and did both. Now, tell me, Abaddon, shouldn’t that be enough to send you back to the drawing board?”

  A few seconds passed in almost-deafening silence, as Abaddon didn’t even have the courage to look his creator in the eyes.

  “It is, Father,” he whispered, his lower lip trembling.

  It was a phenomenal transformation to watch—from the proud and vicious creature who’d announced himself as superior, stronger and faster than us, virtually unbeatable, to this shivering, sweating mess.

  “You understand that I can destroy you in a second and not feel an ounce of regret about my decision, right, Abaddon?” Ta’Zan said in a low voice. Abaddon nodded a couple of times. “Then give me one good reason why I shouldn’t wipe you off the face of this land right now.”

  Abaddon gave me a quick sideways glance. I could see the hate flaring in his eyes, further fueled by his inability to mock me and declare his genetic superiority. He then looked at Ta’Zan, his shoulders dropping slowly.

  “I beg you, Father, give me one more chance,” Abaddon said, his voice breaking as if he were about to cry. “I won’t make such mistakes again. I promise.”

  Ta’Zan thought about it for a minute—the longest in my life, as I looked around and noticed exactly how terrified Isda was by what was unfolding. Ta’Zan’s calm attitude seemed to scare her more than anything. Abaddon’s brutality was nothing compared to watching her father, her creator, hold his true power over the heads of his subjects—in this case, that shimmering green liquid. That little vial clearly had the power to kill a Perfect.

  Good to know.

  “Get out of my sight, Abaddon,” Ta’Zan finally said. “We will have words later.”

  Abaddon nodded once, then darted out of the hall with his head down. Ta’Zan looked at us with a straight face, before helping Isda up. She gave him a weak smile as she managed to stand, squirming from the pain that the Perfect had inflicted.

  “I’m sorry, Father,” she murmured. “I tried to tell him.”

  “That’s fine, Isda,” Ta’Zan replied d
ryly. “I don’t expect you to have any influence on Abaddon. He is quite strong-willed.”

  “I’m sorry.” She sighed.

  “It doesn’t matter,” he said. “Now, your work here is done. Please go away and take care of the others, like you’re supposed to.”

  Isda bowed curtly, then pushed the cart out of the hall. I noticed her limp and slightly crooked back. Abaddon had caused severe damage to her body, but healing didn’t seem like it was on her priority list. I watched her go and shut the door behind her.

  Ta’Zan kept his eyes fixed on me.

  “She needs treatment,” I told him. “Abaddon broke several bones, and she’s probably bleeding internally.”

  “She’ll be fine. She heals, just like the others,” Ta’Zan replied. “She won’t do anything about herself until she’s done with her chores, anyway.”

  Claudia scoffed. “Is that how you programmed them? Service first, try not to die later?”

  Ta’Zan smirked. “You have little understanding of how I teach my creations to operate, Claudia. I strongly advise you not to rush to any judgment.”

  I’d noticed enough to form a solid opinion, though. The Perfects and the Faulties were his creations, and they both feared and worshipped Ta’Zan. They loved him like a father, even though he was distant and clinical, and probably didn’t give a damn whether they lived or died. It was a bleak picture, but it didn’t really surprise me.

  I didn’t know Ta’Zan at all, but his body language and his overall demeanor spoke volumes. His words only reinforced what I’d come to believe about him: he was a highly intelligent creature with a bit of a god complex. The scary part was that he had enough knowledge and technology at his disposal to keep us locked in these glass boxes forever.

  There was nothing that didn’t sustain the theory of him being able to create these so-called perfect creatures. The ideal warriors. Superior beings, physically speaking, with access to resources that we’d never even heard of before.

  “I feel like I should apologize for Abaddon’s behavior.” Ta’Zan sighed. “He’s still figuring things out, I suppose. Not all my creations are quick to adapt.”

  “How could they? They’ve been alive for what, two days? Three?” I replied.

  “That’s not an excuse. Not with their genetic matrix and ability to learn,” Ta’Zan said. “Abaddon is momentarily confined to this base, as I do not trust his judgment beyond these walls. He’s not as… Perfect as he thinks he is.”

  Lucas scoffed. “You can say that again. He’s an arrogant idiot.”

  “He’s brighter than you will ever be,” Ta’Zan shot back, then raised a hand to stop Lucas from verbally retaliating. “Anyway. That being said, I assure you that Abaddon won’t be bothering you again.”

  “Hey, it’s not like we don’t like the occasional entertainment down here,” Xavier said.

  If Ta’Zan planned to take his Perfects out into the universe and do what Abaddon had said, then the world we knew was in grave peril. All the creatures we’d met and become friends with were going to die. Civilizations would go extinct. Entire planets would burn. History would become ashes. The future would be drenched in the blood of innocents.

  Given my incarceration, however, I didn’t have violence as an option. All I could do was find out more, then plan accordingly and figure a way out, not only for myself, but for my wife, siblings, and friends, as well.

  “Is it true?” I asked Ta’Zan. “What Abaddon said?”

  Ta’Zan gave me a flat smile. “What did he say?”

  “He called himself a Perfect. He said that he and others like him were made with our genetic material, and that they will rise and conquer the universe,” I replied. “That they will destroy all the creatures that are beneath them—”

  “Which basically means everyone who isn’t a Perfect,” Sofia murmured.

  Ta’Zan snorted. “Abaddon has some idea of how things will unfold, but he doesn’t yet understand the magnitude of the future that I will implement. But yes, he is a Perfect, and he wouldn’t have been possible without your genes. You, Derek, and all your friends here, are priceless to me. On top of that, you woke me up. For all this, I will forever be grateful and will make sure you live long and peaceful lives.”

  “In these glass boxes? Hah.” Claudia shook her head in disgust.

  “Who are you, Ta’Zan? Where do you come from? What are you doing here?” I asked. “I’d like to know you better, if you don’t mind. Especially since you insist on keeping us in this place for what sounds like an eternity.”

  Ta’Zan chuckled softly.

  “I see you’re trying a peaceful approach now,” he replied. “You’re smarter than I gave you credit for. Or perhaps it’s the wisdom of centuries you’ve managed to live through. I suppose experience has a certain inestimable value. Frankly, I’m trying to find a supplement for it in my Perfects, but I’ve yet to come up with a good solution.”

  “Nothing beats experience, Ta’Zan,” I said. “You strike me as the kind of person who is perfectly capable of recognizing that as an undeniable truth. No skill or power can beat the cumulative choices and mistakes made over a long period of time. In fact, the longer the period, the better the experience. You can’t replace that.”

  “Oh, but I think I can,” he retorted. “No one thought I’d be able to bring my own creatures to life, and yet here we are. I bet I can prove you wrong, too.”

  “Why are you doing this?” I shot back, frowning. “What is the purpose of creating these… Perfects? Are you looking to prove you’re better than nature?”

  He shook his head. “I don’t need to prove that. It’s blatantly obvious at this point. No, Derek, I plan to do something much better. On a grander scale, let’s say.”

  “Then tell me,” I replied. “We deserve to at least know that, since you’re shamelessly harvesting our genes to make your perfect, snarky little soldiers.”

  Ta’Zan let out a long and heavy sigh, then held up a slim metal collar for me to see. “I can show you. Put this on,” he said.

  “What is that?” I asked. “It’s definitely not jewelry.”

  “You must put it on if you wish to step outside this box,” Ta’Zan insisted, his tone firm. “That’s the only way you will get any answers from me.”

  I gave him a brief nod. In return, Ta’Zan pressed his index finger against the glass and created a new opening, just like Isda had done before him. He slipped the collar through. I took it and turned it over several times, checking all the circuits on the inside of the band, along with the blinking lights on the outside.

  “Put it on, Derek. Or stay in there. Your choice,” Ta’Zan said.

  I looked at him, then at Sofia, Lucas, Vivienne, Xavier, and the others. They were all worried but curious—I could see it in their eyes. Sofia gave me a discreet nod, while her expression told me to be careful. I had every intention of coming back to her in one piece, so that wasn’t going to be an issue.

  I clicked the collar’s only button, and it snapped open. I then put it around my neck. As soon as it locked on, I felt several hypodermic needles penetrate my skin.

  “What the… Ouch.” I hissed from the mild pain.

  “The collar is now fully set to monitor your vitals and your thoughts, Derek,” Ta’Zan said. “It’s set to very strict parameters, and it is rigged to punish you severely if you do anything other than take a walk with me outside of this box.”

  The sharp pain went away. A peculiar warmth spread through my body, suddenly relaxing my muscles, dampening my senses, and literally slowing me down. The collar also delivered some kind of sedative, from what I could tell.

  I gave Sofia a quick wink and a half-smile, then shifted my focus back to Ta’Zan. “Okay, now I’m all drugged and obedient,” I replied. “Let’s go.”

  He nodded, then pressed his index and middle fingers on the glass, creating an opening that was tall and wide enough for me to step through. I held my breath and walked out of the glass box. Once my f
eet touched the cold stone, I inhaled deeply and looked back at my team.

  They all stood in their glass boxes, watching me with a mixture of fear and concern. I knew I had to make the best of this situation, no matter what lay ahead. They were all relying on me. I’d earned Ta’Zan’s favor, enough for him to let me out and show me around.

  “Mind you, Derek, if you so much as try to raise a hand against me or attempt an escape, the collar will deep-fry you with thousands of volts. You will not live to see tomorrow, and I will still get my genetic samples from you, because, honestly, I don’t need you alive for this. I’m doing you all a courtesy now,” Ta’Zan said.

  His words sent shivers down my spine, but I gave him a nod in response.

  Regardless of what I was about to witness beyond the damp walls of this dark hall, I was ready to do whatever I could to find a way out of this troubling mess. It wasn’t just my life or my crew’s lives at stake here. Our children, their children, and every other living being outside of Strava depended on our ability to stop Ta’Zan from kickstarting what sounded like an apocalypse of sorts.

  The first step was gathering information.

  Derek

  I followed Ta’Zan out of the dark hall and into a corridor. The overhead light shone yellow, making me squint as I looked around, trying to make sense of what I was seeing. The walls were black, the same type of stone that was in our prison.

  We were underground, judging by the absence of noise, the lack of natural light, and the damp smell. Ta’Zan walked ahead, while I stayed a couple of feet behind him, as the corridor was too narrow for us to walk side by side.

  There was a set of stairs leading up at the end of the hallway.

  “Ta’Zan, I understand that you’re a brilliant creature,” I said. “Not just anyone can take someone’s genes and work them into new life. It takes the kind of skill and knowledge that most of us can’t even dream of. But why do you do it?”